Dragonblood: The Return
by SheenWinning
Summary: The Emperor is assassinated, leaving a weakened Empire with the absence of leadership. Arminius Constantine, the Dragonborn, is given the unique opportunity to assume the role, and return the Dragonblood lineage to the Throne. Meanwhile, the Thalmor are going after his old team from the dragon crisis. How will he carry out his role to come and protect his friends? ImperialDB
1. Introduction

**To let you know, I have attempted this story before, and though it wasn't a complete failure, it had way too many flaws for me to continue. It was completely inconsistent with the mythology and only focusing on the present, and not to mention the political process was left too simple. I'll try to make some changes but at the same time, I know I can't keep up with everything. The story's origins and antics are going to be modified from the games canon to an extent where it doesn't break the lore, but perfectly shapes to my views. This story also centers itself around mostly Imperials, with a civil war win for the Empire, considering this is a story structuring the events of the Emperors assassination and the Imperial Dragonborn's call to power.**

* * *

Titus Mede sat at his desk, waiting for the moment to come. He was listening, and he could hear the crew aboard the ship being taken out one at a time. But he sat there, waiting. When he saw the door creek open, he decided now was a good time to be known.

"Once more, I prove Commander Maro the fool," Mede said, as he watched the assassin approach him. "I told him he can't stop the Dark Brotherhood, nobody could." The assassin remained silent, only looking at him under his hood.

"Come now, don't be shy," Mede said, almost like he was a friend, "You haven't come this far just to stand there gawking." The assassin continued to be silent, and Mede took that as his right to continue speaking. "You and I have…a date with destiny, it would seem. But, so it is with assassins and emperors, hmm?" He stood out of his chair. "Yes, I must die; and you must deliver the blow. It is simply the way it is." He turned away from him, his arms behind his back. "But I wonder…would you suffer an old man a few more words before the deed is done?" A moment of silence, and Mede was sure it was going to stay that way.

"I'm listening," the assassin spoke out. Mede grew a sad smirk on his face.

"I thank you for your courtesy," he said, "You will kill me, I have accepted the fate. I know who it is that sent you after me, and I know of his real plan. Though he must be punished, his plan must be carried on. Everything I have done has only dragged down the Empire, the one Tiber Septim built. After I die today, the events to unfold will serve the Empire a higher purpose." Mede turned to the assassin. "Remind him to see to it that his plan does not fail." Mede turned back and stepped up to the window, looking out at the horizon.

"Onto the business at hand," he said, "believe me, it's for the best." were his last words. The assassin slowly approached him, and plunged the knife into his back. As his vision was going to black, the last thing he saw was the sunrise peeking up over the horizon.

* * *

Even in their world, news traveled fast. It wasn't long before the news had rocketed across Skyrim; only a week later for it to reach Cyrodiil and other places on Tamriel. It was a truly unsettling event, as businesses in Cyrodiil had increased in sales from people willing to put all their coin down for safety. Skyrim remained the same however; Mede's death really only stirred into everyday conversation, and who would be the next Emperor. This issue was discussed at the Imperial city only that same week by the Elder Council.

The large groups of councilors were frantically in conversation, throwing words at each other in argument before the High Chancellor slammed his hammer down.

"Order in the council!" the middle aged man shouted, "if we are to find a worthy individual eligible to take the throne, we must discuss it in discipline." The room quieted down to hear him speak. "It has been several days since Titus Mede II had passed; he has no heirs, and no other family to assume command. To ensure that we are not invaded for the power, we must find a quick but effective solution." One man stood; he was a Breton with brown hair and a small figure.

"If I may, High Chancellor Malvolan," he formally asked.

"Speak, Councilor Motierre," Malvolan said.

"Perhaps we should take a reactionary approach to solving this issue," he said, which raised some questioning gazes.

"Whatever do you mean, Amaund?" a female Imperial councilor questioned.

"I know of a man who would be considered more than eligible to assume the position," he stepped out from his representative desk and walked to where the rest of the council can see him. "His name is Arminius Constantine; he's an Imperial, and he was a Legate of the fourth legion, the one that ended the civil war in Skyrim about 4 years ago. He is a natural, gifted leader that his soldiers look up to."

"I see no reason for this soldier to assume the throne," spoke a male high elf councilor.

"What would you say if I told you this," he paused to let the dramatic effect take in, "he is a Dragonborn!" Several gasps were heard, and the room erupted in quiet argument with each other.

"Aye," a male Nord councilor stood up, "It is true that he is Dragonborn. Despite being an Imperial, he is very well respected among the citizens of Skyrim for his services to stop the dragons from returning. He is a true hero." The other Imperial councilor also chimed in.

"If he is Dragonborn, and he did save Nirn from the return of the dragons, then maybe we should consider what Councilor Motierre is offering us. The return of the Dragon blood lineage to the throne could be the inspiration that this weak Empire needs."

"This is absurd," the male High Elf councilor interrupted, "High Chancellor, the last of the Dragonborn died with Martin Septim two hundred years ago. Is Councilor Motierre insisting that a man comes out of the blue and happens to have a Dragons soul?"

"Calm yourselves councilors," Malvolan said, the room piping down. "What Councilor Motierre says can be very convincing, especially in a desperate time like this where the throne could be seized through war on Cyrodiil; this Council should be willing to take the risk. Whether he is Dragonborn or not, we cannot decide that for ourselves; but Arminius Constantine can prove it to us if he is." The High Chancellor looked down to Councilor Motierre. "It was you that brought his name up and backed it with the rumor of him being Dragonborn, so it is you who must see to it that he comes to Cyrodiil to face judgement."

"Yes, High Chancellor," Motierre acknowledged as he nodded his head.

"In the case that Councilor Motierre may be wrong, this session will continue," Malvolan looked back down to Motierre. "I will arrange for a Legionary convoy to escort you to Skyrim, you are dismissed."

* * *

The mountainous ridge above the forested areas of Falkreath held a thick fog that circled around the mountains, and coated the sky in a light gray. A man with a tall posture, as well as a bow in his left hand, stood on the pointy rock edge of one of the cliffs, taking in the beautiful surroundings of the Falkreath region. He wore mostly leather, with a hood covering his shiny mid-length black hair. His face had stubble, and his chin was lengthy and prominent. His peaceful thoughts were interrupted with twigs snapping at footsteps behind him.

"Arminius," came a low and rasp voice. Arminius was ignoring him, only paying attention to the calm. "The meat and skins are all packed, shall we head back?"

"I'll be with you, Hadvar," he replied, still staring out at the fog beauty. The two had been out on a hunting trip for tonight's and the next couple of days' dinner.

Arminius and Hadvar had been friends since they met during the Civil War six years ago, and their friendship stayed even after it. When he bought the property for his manor, Hadvar helped build it with him, and Arminius decided to let him stay with him and his wife.

"So what is it going to be, huh Hadvar?" Arminius said as he and Hadvar walked through the woods, "Venison soup again?" Hadvar chuckled.

"You're damn right it is," Hadvar replied.

"Dammit Hadvar," Arminius complained jokingly, "Haven't you ever heard of variety?"

"Do you prefer me to make salad?"

"Heh; Gods no."

* * *

They approached the large manor house that was located next to a lake which provided an excellent view. The stables came in their sights, where they saw a certain Dunmer in a white hood shirt, and a brown pair of pants and boots tending to the horses. The Dunmer woman turned to see Arminius and Hadvar with large sacks over their shoulders.

"I have Venison," Arminius said, making her give a light smile as she approached him. Her name was Jenassa; she used to be a mercenary, and if she had never met Arminius, then she probably wouldn't have ever smiled.

"Hadvar and I will get right on it, love," she replied, giving him a peck on the lips. She grabbed hold of the sack over his shoulder, and pulled it to herself, turning away to go with Hadvar back inside the house.

* * *

Arminius had changed out into something more comfortable for home, and he was now downstairs in his basement. He had a small stash of mead in one of his drawers, and as he got a bottle out, he noticed his one room that he barely touches. He thought to himself about the room, and then decided that he would take a look in it.

Opening the door, a bottle of relatively cheap but well brewed mead in his left hand, he took a gaze into the room that was being lit up by the light from the previous room. In it was a real sight; the place was stored with mannequins of previous armors he's worn, different display cases of weapons, artifacts and treasures that he has recovered in his previous adventures. He kept this room to remind him of all the countless journeys he went on before, and after fulfilling his goals as the Dragonborn. Each little piece of treasure told a story, dating back from him growing up on a farm in Cyrodiil, to training in the legion at 15 years of age, and coming to Skyrim by the time he was 18. It even marked his times when he spent six months in the Cidhna mine prison, fought in the war, and stopped the Dragons with his team.

The one thing that stood out to him was the sets of armors on the mannequins. The first was his Legionnaire armors, dating when he was just a simple Auxiliary, to a well-respected Legate when he fought in the three year Skyrim civil war. The next was his Blades armor, one that was a danger to him if he wore out in the open; he wore that armor while he was fighting the dragons and ended the crisis with the defeat of Alduin.

Arminius took a swig of his mead while he continued to bask in his former glory. The moments had turned to an hour, as he then heard the dinner bell ring. He turned toward the door, but took one last look at his armor sets before leaving.

* * *

Arminius, Hadvar, and Jenassa all sat down at the dinner table, with the venison soup in front of them. As they began to eat, there was a brief moment of silence before Jenassa broke it.

"When I was in town today, I heard of the Emperor Titus Mede being assassinated," she said plainly.

"What a shame," Arminius replied, rather not surprised, while still taking spoon-fulls of his soup.

"Who do you think will replace him?" Hadvar piped in. Arminius shrugged.

"Not sure; he doesn't have any heirs," he said, stirring his soup with his spoon. "Maybe another Civil War will break out over control of the throne."

"Where do you think we'll be if it does happen?" Hadvar asked.

"Right here, where we were assigned," Arminius said, "as we watch Cyrodiil get torn to pieces."

The three continued eating in silence, and when they were finished, Hadvar went to the kitchen to clean up the dishes. Eventually, Jenassa went to the back room to continue her Alchemy work, while Arminius and Hadvar conversed in the main living room together.

"…and I escaped, and never returned to Markarth again," Arminius was recollecting his time when he spent six months in Cidhna mine for being framed for conspiracy. Hadvar chuckled, despite hearing the story dozens of times.

"And the prisoner went on to save Nirn," Hadvar said. Arminius chuckled as well and took a swig of the mead in his hand. He gulped it down, and paused for a moment in silence.

"Hey Hadvar," he spoke up; Hadvar raising his brows to him.

"What is it?" he replied.

"About Mede's assassination, if it's really true," Arminius adjusted himself in his seat, "who do you think they are really looking for; to replace the throne, I mean?"

"Hmm," Hadvar nodded his head and pondered the question, "Have you ever thought about your true roots? Where you really came from?"

"That seems a little out of context, Hadvar," Arminius said, taking another sip of his drink.

"No, hear me out on this one, Arminius," Hadvar positioned himself forward. "You were in an orphanage for the first six years of your life with no clue on whom your real parents were, and you were adopted by a family and was raised on a farm. Flash forward fifteen years later, and you find out about your voice ability and the fact that you are the new and only known Dragonborn in Tamriel at the time. Have you ever thought about who your real parents were? Maybe they were royalty that they didn't accept."

"So," Arminius swallowed down a gulp, "you're suggesting that there may have been a Dragonblood sibling or cousin of the Septims that nobody knew about, and one of the sons or daughters of this unknown family of dragonborn had a child that they casted off into an orphanage, and it is me?"

"It's a possibility, just think about it," Hadvar said, beginning to use hand gestures to explain it to him. "The last of the Dragonborn was said to have died with Martin Septim at the end of the Oblivion crisis just over two hundred years ago; that is until you show up. Assuming that what I said is true, it could explain why you are a Dragonborn and why you were an orphan."

"You know, Hadvar," Arminius slouched back in his chair, "that actually makes a lot of sense, but what does that have to do with a new Emperor?"

"Maybe they are considering a reform that they can bring back the old ways," Hadvar explained, "You are very well known and respected as the Dragonborn amongst the people here in Skyrim, and even more in the Legion. Perhaps the imperial government recognizes you, and is looking for you at this moment, to return the Dragonblood lineage to the throne?"

"I doubt it," he said. "Even if they did, what could I do? I grew up on a farm for the Divines' sake."

They spent the next few moments in silence, Arminius occasionally sipping from his mead bottle.

"So where do you think the Blades are right now?" Hadvar spoke up. This bought an uneasy feeling to Arminius.

"Probably still in their little Temple, doing nothing but study Dragons," Arminius replied, rather coldly.

"Arminius, I know you had a falling out with them a while back…" Hadvar started.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, Hadvar," Arminius said, "They're in the past now."

"Which explains why you still have that set of Armor downstairs," Hadvar said. Arminius looked down; it was hard for him to explain. "Look, I didn't mean to remind you, I just…" Hadvar sighed.

"It's okay," Arminius said, "I just need to learn to let go of it."

**R&R**


	2. Sequence 1: Skyrim, Chapter 1

General Arctrius Tullius, the Military Governor of Skyrim. Sometimes he wishes he could just retire, probably return to Cyrodiil and start a business. But recent events would only ensure that that wouldn't happen.

His job was simple; maintain public order in Skyrim while its government handles its own problems. On a regular basis, he would have to assign squads to collect Imperial tax from Skyrim's citizens, a tax that wasn't very popular, but didn't upset the established order. The tax revenue would be transported directly to the Elder Council in the Imperial city, which then provides funds for defense, construction, and trade with Cyrodiil or any other permanent Imperial establishment in Skyrim.

The assassination of the Emperor, however, only proved beneficial to Imperial businesses back home, as profits boomed over the past week. Even in Skyrim, measures needed to be taken. Tullius was required, by order of the Elder Council, to increase security in Skyrim, considering that that's where Mede was assassinated.

Earlier, before Mede died, Tullius had a talk with Commander Maro, the head of the Penitus Ocalatus. Maro had mentioned when they came to Skyrim that the unit had suspicions of a plot to kill the Emperor after Vitoria Vicci was murdered. During their investigation, they uncovered that it was the work of the Dark Brotherhood.

After their successful assassination of the Emperor, they vanished without a trace. The Penitus Ocalatus have tried, and failed to dig up clues, but so far have found no leads. The best Tullius could do was raise troops and fortify Skyrim's cities for better defense, which could ensure the people they are safe; though it didn't seem necessary.

He was in his usual spot of the Castle Dour, waiting for any news to reach him; maybe an emissary could tell him about another small rebellion, or a bandit raid; or maybe someone would be committing tax evasion, or maybe the Thalmor was operating out of their jurisdiction. If only he could do something about those damn High Elves.

In walked Legate Rikke, sword sheathed and her left hand resting on the hilt. She turned to the sitting form of Tullius with a look of formality.

"Tullius," she said her voice stern. "A councilor is here from the Imperial City, he wishes to speak with you." At that, Tullius' brows raised as he quickly stood up from his lazy form. A councilor was here? This must be urgent news.

"A councilor?" Tullius questioned, "Please, do bring him in." Rikke nodded, and turned quickly back out the entrance. Tullius straightened his General's uniform to fit his figure more appropriately; to be more presentable to a councilor from the Elder Council. A moment later, in walked a Breton with a short stature and brown hair. The Breton turned to see Tullius standing with his hands behind his back, maintaining a good posture.

"General Tullius," the Breton said, with a smile forming on his face. He stepped over and extended a hand in greeting. "I am Councilor Amaund Motierre, the Breton representative," Tullius took his hand in a shake, forming a small smirk in his expression.

"It's a pleasure, councilor," Tullius replied, pulling his hand back to his side.

"I've read up on your efforts in the Civil War here in Skyrim," Amaund said. "And I must say that I'm very impressed by your tactical genius at the Siege of Whiterun." Tullius kept a straight face when Amaund brought that battle up; it didn't bring pleasant memories.

"Now, onto the business at hand," Amaund said. Tullius nodded, and then saw Rikke standing at attention in the door frame, watching over the two. "General, I came to you today because I request the presence of one of your soldiers." Tullius raised a brow.

"Who might that be, sir?" Tullius questioned.

"The Dragonborn," Amaund answered simply.

"Legate Constantine?" Tullius said, knowing exactly who it was. "Arminius hasn't reported for duty in a while, ever since he stopped the dragon crisis; not that he ever needed to."

"I simply need you to send an emissary and bring him here," Amaund said. "It is imperative that he returns here quickly."

"I'll get right on it, Councilor," Tullius acknowledged, "But I must ask, what is it you need him for?"

"The answer may surprise you," Amaund said. "The Elder Council recognizes him as one with the dragon blood. They are considering him as a candidate for the throne." From the corner of Tullius' eye, he could see Rikke grew stiff with a shocked expression on her face. Tullius however, remained the same.

"I'm not surprised that you considered him, councilor," Tullius said. "I know him; he is a natural, gifted leader and very well respected among the people here in Skyrim. Not to mention, he is the Dragonborn; and seeing a new Dragonborn assume the throne would be a moment in history."

"I thank you for understanding," Amaund let out a light smile. "Unfortunately, the Elder Council would need a 2/3rds vote in order to appoint him, which would be quite a long and difficult process."

* * *

Blacksmithing was a job that Arminius had taken up after the wars. Of course, it wouldn't make sense, considering that there is no war that could benefit the business he worked in. But he worked, and made coin that he probably doesn't even need.

It was something that his uncle-the brother of his adoptive father-had taught him every time he visited him in Anvil when he was a kid. Eventually, next to farming, he got quite decent at it, and occasionally helped him run the business.

Here he was now, a grown man and still helping somebody out in Blacksmithing. Lod was a decent fellow, and paid Arminius kindly; so there was no problem with his after-war life.

Arminius just got done hammering down a hot steel sword, and then dipped it in the cooling water.

"That's good," Lod said, "you can take a break." Arminius nodded to him and undid the knot that held his apron on him. He took it off and tossed it on the railing as he headed down the steps. He backed himself up against a wooden wall and crossed his arms, laying his head back. He was like this for a few moments, until he heard a whispering coming from around the corner. He adjusted his head and noticed a womanly figure in a leather hood peeking out at him, beckoning him to come over.

Curiosity took him, and he approached the figure that retreated back around the corner. Arminius clenched his fist on his sheathed dagger, ready to draw it if the moment was necessary. Turning the corner, he had eyes on her again, waiting for a word.

"Arminius," the figure said. The voice was all too familiar to him; no it couldn't be. The figure pulled down the hood to reveal an aging face and greying hair of Delphine.

"Delphine," Arminius said, his voice becoming stern. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to tell you that Esbern and I are in danger," she said, "and I ask for your assistance."

"I thought I wasn't welcome among the Blades," he said. "So why would I ever help you?"

"Because it's the Thalmor, they're getting closer and closer to us by the day, and we fear that they may discover our location," Delphine explained.

"Sorry, but I stopped taking orders from you and Esbern when you demanded that I kill Paarthurnax," Arminius said, as he turned away from her, crossing his arms.

"Dammit, Arminius," Delphine sighed, "that doesn't matter anymore. If the Thalmor find us, they will come after you and your family next, so long as they found out about your involvement with us." Arminius shot around at her.

"Leave my family out of this," he demanded, pointing a finger at her. "Why don't you go ask Mjoll for help, or even Marcurio?"

"The team all went their separate ways after you defeated Alduin," Delphine said, "you were the only one I could easily find." Arminius sighed; he didn't want to keep arguing with her.

"Look, just stay in hiding, and pray to the Divines that the Thalmor don't find you," Arminius said, backing to back away with his palm in front of him.

"What would you do if the Thalmor came after you?" Arminius paused in his tracks. "If I were you, I would watch out." Delphine slowly pulled her hood back over her head and turned to walk away. "From what I heard, the Emperor was assassinated, and the Thalmor would no doubt take advantage of that." She began to walk away, but turned her head to make one last statement. "And if you ever decide to change your attitude, come find us, along with the rest of the old team. I fear that we are all in danger."

With that, Arminius watched her walk off into the forest.

* * *

"So Delphine visited me today," Arminius said, lying back on his couch. He was watching his wife sit crisscross on the floor, reading a book on Alchemy's effects on the Human and Mer psyche.

"Did she now?" Jenassa replied, not taking her eyes away from the book.

"She mentioned that the Thalmor were onto her and Esbern, and they may even come after us too," Arminius said.

"Then let them, love," Jenassa said, flipping a page of her book. "The Altmer have tried, and failed multiple times to dispatch us. They would stand no chance in our paths."

"But that was during the Dragon crisis," Arminius complained, "we were much more united and lively with the danger over our heads."

"But as husband and wife, we are still united, stronger than ever; are we not?" she said, her red eyes scaling over to the next page.

"It's not just us," Arminius explained, "Delphine mentioned just before she left, that our old team is being hunted by the Thalmor as well." This made Jenassa switch her full focus to Arminius.

"Then Mjoll, Marcurio, and Erik are all in danger," Jenassa said, sitting up.

"Well if they had any sense of security like when we were a team, they should be able to handle themselves," Arminius said, "But I'm more worried about what it would do to this Empire. The Emperor has been assassinated; so do you think that maybe the Thalmor are in the midst of another conspiracy?"

"Possibly," Jenassa replied, sitting next to him on the couch.

"Do you think that maybe the Thalmor are the ones that killed Mede?" Arminius turned to her, his side resting on the couch.

"Unlikely; Mede was a tool of the Aldmeri Dominion's instilment of power and influence across Tamriel, I fail to see why they would want him eliminated," Jenassa said, mimicking his posture.

"Well that's what a conspiracy is," Arminius said, "They don't really make much sense until you dig deeper into the plot. From what I know, the Penitus Ocalatus have been investigating the murder, and they haven't released any information to the general public; either they have found nothing to inform us about, or they have found something that they don't want us to know."

Jenassa held a light smile on her face, and began stroking at his chin, fiddling with the little hairs.

"In times like this, we have to be able to watch out for our own interests, and be able to defend ourselves," she said, then laying her head down on his chest.

"Perhaps you're right," he replied, calmly. "I really should just let this all go."

* * *

Riften: the city of thievery. It's also home to some very lively folk when it turns to night time. The Bee and Barb, the city's inn, is alive with light, music, dancing, drink, and laughter. Supposedly, it was all just an escape from the real world problems that Riften was facing; the Black-Briars coming into power, the failing businesses, and of course the Thieves guild themselves.

It was Mjoll the Lioness' duty to see that its citizens remained safe from harm; she felt as it was her duty the moment she saw it. But just for tonight, she would let that all go. She would be enjoying the fun of a drink and song, something that comes around only once in a while for her. Like usual, she was with Aerin, who was holding back with the alcohol. Mjoll was sitting in the chair across from him, her face turned so that she could watch the group of drunken men dance around in the middle to the music that the band of bards were playing from the corner of the room. Along with that, a group of other men were clapping their hands to the beat of the music.

"If the Dragon Crisis taught me anything, it's that life is short," Mjoll said, her thick Nord accent reaching Aerin's ears over the sound of the music. "It's fun to enjoy a good drink and song every now and then."

Just out the corner of her eyes, she saw three tall figures enter the room. One of them had black robes on, and the other two had golden colored armor. When she turned to see them fully, she noticed who they were exactly.

"Aerin," she said in almost a whisper. "It's the Thalmor." Aerin looked over, and then quickly shot back with a face of panic. "Keep low and don't draw any attention."

The three Thalmor agents pushed past the small crowd of Nords, breaking up their little song and dance; several of the Nords started complaining and a couple even silently spit some insults at them. The three approached the Argonian inn keeper.

"You, Argonian!" the wizard yelled. He held up a yellow roll of paper, "have you seen this woman? She is a Nord and a fugitive of Thalmor."

A Nord woman they were looking for? Figures. Suddenly, to Mjoll's surprise, the Argonian pointed in their general direction, with the Thalmor agents following it.

The Thalmor were after her? Why? They were beginning to approach her table. She needed to act quickly and escape.

"Aerin, go, get out of here," she whispered, "I'll meet you at the house." Aerin was reluctant at first, but eventually he jumped up and backed away. She stepped up to make herself known.

"That's right!" she yelled out to them, "I am right here, you Thalmor scum!" The Thalmor agents stopped in their tracks, right in the middle of the dancing group, who are now paying attention to the scuffle.

"But would my Nord brothers and sisters leave a fellow comrade without coming to her aid?" She stated, imploring the big, gruff, muscular Nords around them. Of course it appealed to their sense of honor, and of course they would step in. The room stood in silence for a second; the agents were focused on Mjoll but heard the cracking of knuckles around them, and the grunts and growls that could belong to prisoners.

"Hey pointy ears!" came a loud voice from behind them. The wizard quickly turned around and saw a chair being swung at him until it hit him across the face and breaking it. The other two went to draw their swords, but the other angry Nords roared and jumped in to tackle them. Eventually it turned into an all-out fist fight, every Nord in the room vs. the three Thalmor agents. The bard band even started to play a piece of fight music that they were required to play every time a bar fight broke out.

Mjoll chuckled, and made her way out of the inn. She ran into her and Aerin's house, and began gathering some things.

"Mjoll, what's going on?" asked Aerin. Mjoll was frantically grabbing food and supplies that she needed and throwing it into a sack.

"Aerin," she said. "The Thalmor are after me, and I need to disappear for a while; possibly find some help."

"Let me come with you!" he said. Mjoll stopped for a second and turned to him.

"No, Aerin, I can't let you do that," she replied.

"But Mjoll, I…" he stuttered before being cut off.

"Aerin, please…I can't get you caught in all of this," Mjoll stated, her voice growing softer. Aerin sighed, looking down to the ground. Mjoll put her hand on his shoulder, Aerin looking back up at her in sorrow. "When you saved me that one day, I owed you my life. Hopefully now, keeping the Thalmor away from you would keep you safe, so that one day you could live to see me again. For me having to leave so all of a sudden, I wish it wasn't necessary; but if it's to keep you safe, then I'd have to."

"I understand, Mjoll," Aerin said softly.

"You have showed me nothing but hospitality, and I am grateful for having you in my life. I know that one day I will return home to you, and we can live our dream as adventurers. But…its goodbye for now, Aerin, it's for the best…" They engaged in a long hug, Aerin stuffing his nose into the nape of her neck.

"I'll miss you, Mjoll," he slurred onto her neck skin.

"As I will you, Aerin," she replied, pulling out of the hug then throwing the sack over her shoulder. "I'll return, I promise." Was the last thing she said before bolting out the door.

* * *

**If you want to capture the full atmosphere of the fight scene between the partying Nords and the Thalmor agents at the Inn, then I'd suggest you look up some Irish tavern music or some river dance and for some reason that music depicts a bar fight real well. R&R.**


	3. Chapter 2

**I'll have to ask you guys, I'm thinking about doing a prequel to this story after it is finished (which will be a long time from now.) It would go into further into Arminius' past, and tells his story as a soldier and as the Dragonborn with his team as the events of Skyrim unfold. Leave a review and tell me what you think about the concept.**

**Warning: Minor Sex Scene in the very beginning. **

* * *

_2 days later_

It was mid-day, and the manor was left alone. As quiet as it was, moans and grunts were being howled through the house, and the floorboards shook from physical movement.

Arminius and Jenassa were left alone in a room, in their currently empty manor. The smell of Human and Mer fornication stunk the room. Their naked forms were lying on the bed, Jenassa making her position on top of him. She was pushing her lower body up against his in a repetitive motion, with her face close to his and her body pushed tightly up against his chest.

They were having their intimacy, up until they heard a sharp rap on the front door of their house.

"Damn," Arminius breathed, helping his Dunmer wife off of him. He made no rush to get a pair of loose pants on, and a white button down that he didn't even bother to button up. Leaving Jenassa lying on the bed, he made his way downstairs and to the door. When he opened it, he was surprised to see a couple of legionnaires standing at attention.

"Legate!" they both shouted, raising their fist up to their chest in a salute. The tribune was the one to speak, "Legate Constantine, General Tullius has sent us, and he requests your presence."

"He does?" Arminius questioned, and then nodded. "Okay, I'll be ready in five." He shut the door, and paced up the stairs to tell his wife.

"Who was it, love?" Jenassa said, stretching her arms.

"It was an emissary unit, they're here to retrieve me," he answered, looking through his drawers for fresher undergarments.

"Why are they retrieving you?" Jenassa questioned, sitting up in the bed.

"Apparently General Tullius needs to see me," he said, stripping down and pulling on a new pair of underwear.

"I thought you retired from the Legion?"

"Well, no," he said with a little chuckle. "I took a leave of absence for when I was fighting the Dragons. Plus, a soldier in the legion doesn't really retire. We had a saying that goes, 'Once a legionnaire, always a legionnaire.'"

"I see; so what will you be doing?"

"Don't know, but I might be out for more than a couple of days. Tell Hadvar that I'm gone, and if I'm not back by the time, then would you accompany Hadvar on the next hunting trip for me?"

"I'll make sure of it."

"Good," Arminius acknowledged, coming up to the bed beside her and giving her a small kiss. "Be safe, okay?" Without the answer, they kissed again and he turned out the door.

Several minutes later, he exited his manor, in his full legionnaire armor and his officer's helmet tucked under his arm.

"Are you ready, Legate?" the Tribune asked.

"Of course, take me to Tullius," Arminius said. The other two soldiers acknowledged and they all made their way to the horses, and then rode off.

* * *

It was later that day, the sun was setting, and Hadvar and Jenassa in the middle of cooking venison chops. Jenassa told Hadvar about Arminius leaving, and Hadvar understood. Eventually, in the middle of cooking, they heard another knock on the door.

"I'll get it," Hadvar said, leaving the meat rotator to Jenassa. When Hadvar opened the door, he was surprised to see a familiar blonde haired Nord with blue war paint on one side of her face.

"Mjoll? What are you doing here?" Hadvar asked in shock. Mjoll smiled, clearly happy to see him.

"For the moment, let's just say that I'm visiting some old friends," she replied, Hadvar taking in the sound of her thick accent. Hadvar let go of the surprise of seeing Mjoll here, and replaced it with joy. They then engaged in a hug.

"Oh, Hadvar," Mjoll said, pulling her face away from him to get a good look. "Have you grown taller since we've last seen each other?"

"Maybe you've just shrunken," Hadvar said, pulling off some of his dry wit.

"Who's at the door?" Jenassa called, approaching behind him. Mjoll looked over Hadvar's shoulder and noticed the Dunmer.

"Jenassa!" Mjoll called out. Jenassa approached, and then Mjoll pulled her into a tight hug.

"Mjoll, what are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you too," Mjoll said with playful sarcasm.

"Would you like to come in?" Hadvar asked, then looking over to Jenassa who nodded for approval.

"Yes, of course," Mjoll answered. Hadvar and Jenassa stepped out of Mjoll's way, letting her into the Manor. "I was looking for Arminius, is he here?"

"No; he was called out this morning to go and see his commander in Solitude," Jenassa replied. "He said he might not be back for the next couple of days."

"I see," Mjoll said. "But I have a problem." Hadvar and Jenassa looked at each other in question, and then back at Mjoll.

"What kind of a problem?" Hadvar asked.

"A big one."

"Well we can discuss it," Hadvar said. "Would you like to stay for dinner, Mjoll? We have Venison chops."

"Yes, I would like that."

* * *

It was after they finished their meals that they began to talk. Mjoll explained about her run in with the Thalmor, and how they were searching for her.

"I had to leave Aerin to make sure that he would stay safe," she said, taking a mug of mead and drinking from it. While she was explaining the ordeal, Jenassa was in deep thought about it.

"So Delphine was right…" Jenassa muttered.

"What?" Hadvar questioned, especially when he heard Delphine's name.

"A couple of days ago, Arminius mentioned to me that Delphine visited him while he was working in town. He said that she mentioned the Thalmor getting dangerously close, and that they might be hunting down the old team. With what you told us, we now have suspicion that Delphine is right."

"I wonder what for," Mjoll said, with her hand on her chin.

"Well we meddled in their affairs," Hadvar explained, and then turned to Jenassa. "Remember that time when you and Arminius posed as a couple and infiltrated the Thalmor embassy?"

"Yes," Jenassa answered. "If I may recall, Arminius lied and said his name was Dingus Avicci-I'm surprised that name ever worked-and then distracted the guards by lying to some poor rich fool that the Bosmer girl he was harassing was going to have sex with him. When he found it she wasn't, he then blew up at her." Upon hearing this story again, Mjoll covered her mouth with her hand, trying and failing to hold in the laughter. "He got a good kick out of it."

"Also, remember when we went into Riften to find Esbern? We killed a whole team of Thalmor agents along the way." Hadvar said.

"So does that make us fugitives of the Aldmeri Dominion?" Mjoll asked.

"It's a most definite," Jenassa replied.

"Then we have to make sure that Marcurio and Erik are okay," Mjoll stated.

"We'll get to it," Hadvar said. "But for now, you need rest. Would you like to stay here for a while?"

"Yes, I thank you for the hospitality."

* * *

Rorikstead was a little town, and by little I mean LITTLE. It only had two buildings; one of them being an inn, and another was a farm house. In the Inn was Erik the Slayer, bound in his armor, with a mug of ale in his hand. He was sitting by the fire, while telling a couple of children from a visiting family about the adventures that he has had.

"…and so I jumped on top of the head of the dragon and delivered the final blow!" Erik told them enthusiastically.

"Wow!" both of the kids said. "Did all that really happen?"

"I can bet you they did!" Erik answered, being all proud of himself. A voice called from the other rooms, "Kids! Time for bed!" The two kids jumped from their crisscross on the floor and ran back to the room where their mother had called them. Erik got up from his seat, smiling. He then walked over to his father, Mralki, the inn keeper.

"Some of those stories you tell really worry me," Mralki said, wiping down the counter with a cloth.

"If it makes you feel better, I usually make up ten percent of it," Erik said, leaning on the counter and taking a sip of his ale.

"That's alright," Mralki said. "All those stories about your time fighting the dragons can be bothersome to a father. But, you're still in one piece, and I thank the Divines for that."

"You should be glad I had the chance to go fight them," Erik said. "The Dragonborn was the best thing to have happened in my life, and I have made many friends while fighting by his side." Mralki started rearranging crates of mead and ale into the shelves below. Suddenly, some completely new people came through the door. They were tall, one dressed in black robes, and the other two in elven armor.

_Elven Armor? Oh no…_

It was the Thalmor. Them being in a little Nord village meant trouble. Erik turned away, brushing his hair a little nervously, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. Mralki leaned over and whispered, "Dammit, Erik! What did you do this time!?" They had a silent argument amongst each other up until the Thalmor justiciars made their way to the counter next to them.

"Are you the mercenary that goes by 'Erik the Slayer'?" The wizard demanded an answer. Erik took a peep at him.

"uhh…no," he answered. The wizard pulled out a scroll, and unrolled it. He held it up in front of Erik; the picture of it was a drawing of his face.

"Really?" The Wizard said with a smirk on his face. Erik's mouth was moving trying to form words, or an excuse.

"…well…there could be plenty of Nords with the name Erik, and look exactly like me…" suddenly, the door burst open, and in ran a middle aged woman, with…blades armor? She had her blades sword drawn, and she ferociously charged at the three high elves. With them distracted and taken by surprise, Erik through the ale from his mug into the face of the Wizard, temporarily blinding him.

The blades armor woman jumped at the other justiciar, who was trying to get his sword out as quick as possible, but was unable to as the blade dove through his chest. The blades woman kicked him out from her sword, and focused her attention to the other two.

The other one still standing had his sword out, but Erik grabbed him from behind and snapped his neck.

The Wizard shot up angrily, looking at the blade, and getting ready to use a shock damage spell. He was unable to when the blades sword was slashed across his throat, spewing blood onto the floor and counter. The three Justiciars now lay dead.

"What in oblivions is going on!?" Mralki yelled, obviously in shock that there was a sword fight in his tavern, and from seeing his son kill a living being with his bare hands. Erik then recognized the woman in the Blades armor.

"Delphine? What's happening?" Erik said, with the adrenaline still in him. Delphine came over and grabbed his upper arm; the part that exposed his skin.

"There's no time to explain! You have to come with me!" Delphine said, turning towards the door and pulling Erik along with her.

"Okay…uhhh…see you later, dad," Eric yelled in reaction to Delphine's yanking of his arm. This left Mralki even a little bit more concerned about what Erik does, and also leaving him wondering what to do with the three bodies.

Delphine pulled Erik out to a horse, where they both hopped on and rode away.

"Can you tell me what that was about back there?" he said, rather angrily that the Thalmor invaded his family's farm.

"My suspicions were correct," Delphine replied over the wind.

"What!?" Erik yelled, confusedly.

"Esbern and I were tracking some Thalmor justiciar activity in the reach. We believed that they may have found out where we were hiding. We thought that if we weren't safe, then the rest of the old team isn't safe."

"The Thalmor are hunting down our old team? Why?"

"We can answer that question later, for now we need to get to safety."

"Where is this safety?" Erik asked, with a little bit of sarcasm in his lip.

"We're going to see the Dragonborn," Delphine replied. Erik acknowledged and stayed silent for a moment, but then realized something.

"Hey, where's Esbern?"

"He's off to retrieve Marcurio."

* * *

In the minor city of Winterhold, stood the College. This is where the sarcastic and witty Imperial mage, Marcurio, decided to stay after his days as a teammate of the Dragonborn. He wanted to go back and study other types of magic, like restoration, or conjuration spells.

Currently he was standing somewhere relatively close to a group of the school's teachers outside in the cold breeze. They were at the front gates, along with the Arch-Mage, and were talking down a party of three Thalmor Justiciars.

"I said this once, and I will say it again," the Thalmor wizard yelled at them. "Your school is housing a fugitive of Thalmor Justiciars of Skyrim! We demand that you hand him over!" Mirabelle Ervine raised her voice up to the Altmer wizard's level.

"The College of Winterhold remains neutral in affairs of other organizations and nations. Therefore, you have no authorization to force a student that is living on our campus out."

Marcurio watched the scuffle, knowing full well that it was about him.

"Are you okay, Marcurio?" a sweet voice came from beside him. She was a novice robe hooded Dunmer girl, with a large handbag going around her shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm alright," Marcurio replied, with his arms crossed. "It's just an elite group of agents serving under a pro-totalitarian regime are trying to kill me."

"Oh," the girl let out. "Those Thalmor men are after you?"

"YES, those Thalmor men are after me!" Marcurio snapped, obviously done with her inane questions that she has asked him over the years. Of course, all she could do was chuckle nervously. They saw that the Thalmor agents were beginning to leave, obviously to come back later.

"I think that it's time we leave," came the voice of an old man from behind them. Marcurio turned to see that it was Esbern.

"Esbern?" he said confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Esbern questioned because of his hard of hearing.

"What?" Marcurio said back.

"I'm a little deaf in this ear."

"AHH, just tell me what in oblivion you're doing here!" Marcurio yelled his temper shortening.

"Ohh, right," Esbern said. "The Thalmor are going after our old team, and we need to escape and see them."

"Now?" Marcurio questioned, thinking about his studies and personal items that he has here at the College.

"Yes, we must leave just as their distracted."

Eventually, Esbern had pulled Marcurio out of the College (even without all his stuff.) They escaped and began heading down to Falkreath as quick as they can.

* * *

**R&R**


	4. Chapter 3

Arminius and the other two Legionnaires had made it to Solitude about a couple of days later. They dismounted and entered through the main gates on foot. Walking past the thriving community, they could hear chatter coming from one person to another.

"It's the Dragonborn!" "The Dragonborn is here!" he could hear them whisper. Ignoring the attention, he followed closely behind the two Legionnaires who were leading him to the Castle Dour. When they arrived, the two stepped aside and gave a chest salute.

"General Tullius is in the war room, sir," the Tribune stated.

"Thank you, soldier," Arminius said, and paced off. Making his way through the training yard, he would occasionally receive chest salutes and "Legate!" from Legionnaires who recognized his rank. He would make a quick nod to them and walk off at the same pace.

Eventually he reached the door to the war room, where the two guards standing on each end saluted him as well. He walked through, and met General Tullius on the other side. He walked up to him and saluted, "General Tullius."

Tullius acknowledged him, "At ease, Legate."

Arminius noticed Legate Rikke in the room, along with a new face he doesn't remember seeing before.

"Arminius, I have some news that may either please you or shock you, depending on your perception of the situation," Tullius stated, making way for the Breton in the fancy clothing to approach. "If I may, I would like to introduce you to Councilor Amaund Motierre."

_Councilor? _

Motierre approached Arminius and extended his hand for a greeting.

"Well, if it isn't the Dragonborn himself!" Motierre said enthusiastically. Arminius took his hand in a shake, but still held a questioning look on his face. "I've read up on your involvement in the Skyrim civil war, and I must ask; was it you that was holding the front gate at the Siege of Whiterun?"

"Yes, it was," Arminius replied simply.

"And if my history is correct, you also were the one who led the landing at the Battle of the Cold Harbor?"

"Yes, I did," Arminius replied again.

"Oh, excuse me, where are my manners?" Amaund said. "Fortunately, no introduction for you is necessary; I already know who you are and what you did. Saving Nirn from the dragons is something that can never be forgotten through history, and provides a great trait for the role that you would be assuming later on."

Arminius raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, excuse me again," Amaund said, almost like a snob. "I like to talk in a way that keeps people anticipating what's to come."

"Sir?" Arminius said, hoping that the Breton councilor would get to the point.

"Yes, of course," Amaund acknowledged. "Legate Constantine, I have travelled here from the Imperial City to offer you a chance that only few have been given. As you may know, the Emperor has recently been assassinated, leaving the throne empty. Now the Elder Council has discussed the issue on who is to replace it, and we have considered some interesting candidates. But you, however, stand out far beyond any other."

Arminius was confused, and looked around at Tullius and Rikke, seeing if they understood.

"What are you saying, Councilor?"

"I'm saying that you are the one that this Empire needs. You are a well-known Legate, a hero of Tamriel, and one with the dragonblood. I could say that you hold every trait that Tiber Septim and his heirs were."

Arminius understood now.

"To put it simply; you are more than eligible to assume the role as Emperor of Tamriel. Will you accept the opportunity and help bring balance to this Empire?" Amaund Motierre said, glorifying his words. Arminius stepped back in shock, with his hands in the air.

"I…I don't know what to say…" Arminius stuttered.

"Then maybe I can convince you," came a heavily accented Nord voice behind him. They all turned to see the blonde haired Nord standing in the doorway, with a crown on his head.

"High King Balgruuf!" Tullius exclaimed, him and Rikke both bowing and saluting.

"Balgruuf!" Arminius said happily. "It's been a long time."

"It has, friend," Balgruuf said with a smile on his face. He put his hands on Arminius' shoulder plates. "But what the councilor here is saying is correct. You are the Dragonborn, and the last great Emperors were Dragonborn as well. The return of the Dragonblood lineage to the throne would be the key to rebuilding this Empire. You are also the hero that has saved Nirn from the Dragons; and a hero coming into power will serve as the inspiration that the people need to be strong and united once more. And you being the Emperor…you have been in the shoes of the common citizen, and you understand more than anyone else the problems we are faced with."

Arminius looked down, and pondered for the moment, realizing that Balgruuf was correct.

"I implore you to consider it, Arminius; for the people," Balgruuf said.

"I second that," Tullius added.

"I agree as well," Rikke also added. Arminius felt the overwhelming support from his colleagues, and decided to make the decision.

"I'll consider it," Arminius answered. "I…just need some time…to take it all in of course."

"Take the time you need, but please consider that we are in a hurry," Amaund said. "The Empire is still vulnerable, and the more time wasted, the more likely a Civil War will break out."

* * *

Tullius said that he, Rikke, and Motierre, along with an emissary convoy would meet him in Falkreath which is where he is to give them his final consent to take him to the Imperial City. In the meantime, Arminius needed to speak with some people.

He had retreated from Solitude, and found himself in the mountainous, snowy and secluded region of Northern Skyrim. He dismounted his horse, and walked into an open field, looking up in the sky.

"**OD AH VIING!" **He shouted, an aura of energy coming from his mouth and thrown into the sky. He waited, and for the short time all he heard was the wind. Eventually, a dragon's howl came from the sky, and the silhouette of a dragon came flying down. Coming into view, its features held red scales, and curved horns on its head.

The dragon swooped down and land on the field next to Arminius, making the ground shake.

"Dovahkiin," the dragon said, in its low rasp monstrous dragon voice. "I sense that I'm not here to assist in battle."

"No you're not," Arminius said sternly. "I need your input on an issue of mine."

"A joor needs a drahlun from a dovah? Speak of it then," The Dragon insisted.

"Odahviing, I was told by a councilor today that I was being chosen as the new Emperor for the Empire of Tamriel, what should I do?"

"Hmm…most impressive, Dovahkiin," Odahviing said. "Paarthurnax always spoke of you to accomplish many great things."

"I know he did," Arminius said.

"Whatever you choose to be, Dovahkiin, I am at your command," Odahviing said. "Wherever you would be, I am never too far."

"You're right," Arminius said, smiling.

"Hmm…perhaps you would wish to speak to Paarthurnax," the dragon put. "He could give you the 'input' you are looking for."

"Yes, I would like that," Arminius replied. "Please take me to him."

Odahviing lowered his head and his long neck, providing for Arminius to be able to climb on top of him. Once he was mounted, they were off to the throat of the world.

* * *

Back at the manor, Marcurio and Esbern, along with Erik and Delphine, had met up with the rest of the old team like it was a reunion. They had all gathered in the dining room area, where they were all discussing the current situation. Delphine was keeping watch of the front door while listening in on their conversation, and Esbern being old, passed out on the couch. Hadvar was pacing back and forth across the room, with his hand on his chin.

"So from what Marcurio told us," he started. "We know for sure now that the Thalmor are coming after us." Erik, who was sitting up against the wall closely next to Mjoll, spoke up.

"What did we do to have them come after us?" He asked. Marcurio, who was sitting in one of the chairs, piped in.

"Does it really matter at this point what we did?" He snapped. "All that matters is that we need to stick together and stay alive."

"He's right," Jenassa said. "We can't waste any more time on why, we just need to secure the perimeter of this home and make sure that the Thalmor doesn't find us here." Erik was thinking on one of his long thought out, but stupid plans.

"What if we ignore all the other Thalmor, and we kill their leader, Elenwen?" Erik insisted.

"So we can give the Thalmor another reason to kill us?" Marcurio said. "Besides, that insane High-Elf is damn near untouchable, it would be foolish to try and get to her." Erik then felt a hand on his bare arm.

"Erik, don't get too ahead of yourself, it can cost you a lot," Mjoll said.

"But we need to do something!" he complained. "We can't just sit here and wait for them, while they are out there possibly terrorizing our families." This struck Hadvar, knowing that he has his Uncle, Aunt, and cousin in Riverwood.

"Calm down," Hadvar reassured him. "We're going to wait for Arminius to come home, and then we can settle things." Erik stood straight, and pointed at him.

"What about you family in Riverwood, Hadvar? Don't you think they are in danger?" Erik said. Hadvar stayed silent, only glaring at him.

"No," Delphine said from the front door. "The Thalmor may be ruthless, but even they don't do what's unnecessary. They're specific, so they are restricted from causing havoc among random citizens."

"But what about those they have arrested under only 'suspicion'?" Erik questioned. "They can surely do that to our families. Not unless we go out there and make a stand."

"Dammit, Erik!" Marcurio yelled. "You Nords don't know anything about thinking things through! It's almost always about 'Honor', and throwing yourselves headlong at the enemy! That's the biggest reason the Stormcloaks lost the Civil War; they were all so focused on their honor, and fairness that they forgot about the strategy. For the Divine's sake, haven't you ever heard of living to fight another day?" Mjoll and Erik gave a look that showed they took offense at the Imperial's bitter words about Nords. At the end of his rant, Jenassa slammed her fists down onto the table.

"ENOUGH!" She yelled, angrily. "We can sit here and argue about what we could do and turn on each other, or we could do what we should do and that's to STAY ALIVE!" The four in the room listening to her, remained silent with a look of shock on their faces. "Now we are going to wait until my husband, our leader, returns here. Then HE will make the decision on what to do with ourselves. Do I make myself clear?"

The room remained silent, every one of them looking down in regret that they were so bitter to each other. Jenassa took that silence as an agreement, and sat back down with a cold expression, obviously upset about the conversation.

* * *

**So for me, this kind of felt like a lazy chapter. Oh well, I have to keep it at the top, right? **

**R&R. **


	5. Chapter 4

**This is gonna be a short chapter, just so I can focus solely on this scene here. I may have written Paarthurnax a little awkwardly, or some of the things I make him say don't really sound very wise or different from what anybody else would think. But hey, I'm not an Ancient Dragon living in seclusion who has overcome his evil nature. So anyways, enjoy this short chapter.**

* * *

Odahviing and Arminius had flown over to the highest peak in Tamriel. The air was frosty, the wind was harsh, and the dirt and rock were covered in five inches of snow. Through the dense snowfall, Arminius made out a figure of another dragon, resting atop of a word wall. Odahviing seeing him as well swooped down and landed yards away from Paarthurnax. As Arminius was climbing off the red dragon's neck; he could hear Paarthurnax speak to them.

"Drem yol lok, Odahviing," he said, in an equally deep and monstrous voice. "Fos drun hi wah dii nuvah?"

Odahviing replied back in the dragon language, "Faal Dovahkiin laan wah tinvaak wah hi nau hiitir do ok." Paarthurnax looked down to Arminius approaching him.

"Is that so? Hmm…Zu'u vis honah niil riid hiitir…what is it you wish to speak to me about, Dovahkiin?"

"I have great expectations of me lying ahead," Arminius started. "I was approached today by a councilor, and he wants me to take the role as the Emperor of Tamriel."

"Hmm…lot kurahivend vrah, I always knew you were to reach many great achievements, and the return of the Dovah Sos to your Empire, getiid ko rotusnutiid."

"I didn't know who else to turn to, Paarthurnax," Arminius said, shaking his head. "How can I lead an Empire while it's crumbling? I grew up on a farm for the Divines' sake."

"It seems that in a moment like this, hi los sahlo; you focus on your weak points. Hi kend morah nau hin mul zahd, to achieve great things, you must first attempt great things. Dez drun hi wah daar zahd, you must first seek inside you all the strength that you once had. Lorot wah us, when defeating Alduin, you would not call yourself the weak farm mortal that you are now."

Arminius thought long on those words, and Paarthurnax was right.

_Why am I calling myself weak now? I was strong for all of Tamriel when I fought the Dragons, and this is a situation where I need to be strong as well. _

"Hi lost kiin wah meyz lot; it is in your blood that you are marked with the power of the dovah, and many joor revel in that fact. You chose to use that great power in the name of good, and for the benefit of existence. Nii los onikaan fah joriin wah ov hi; many know of your great effort to defeat Alduin; therefore many have come to trust you. Nii los ov, Dovahkiin; as so many do for you, you must also come to trust yourself."

"…So I need to trust myself, and my courage will decide for me." Arminius murmured, just loud enough for Paarthurnax to hear.

"Indeed; hahleit inaak mii, our conscience guides us through our lives, and our choices are influenced by it. Tell me Dovahkiin, what does your conscience perceive of this world?"

Arminius had to think long and hard about this, knowing it had to come deep from within his heart.

"It sees…It feels, a broken Tamriel."

"That is your conscience speaking, it understands what few before you could not; and those few before you held the reigns of Nirn in their hands. Given the opportunity, would you not change that world?"

"No, I…I would," Arminius said, understanding more and more.

"Hi lost pruzah hahleit, a choice you should never let down," Paarthurnax said. "Your people have chosen you because it is simply your fate. The Dovahkiin is the figurehead of hope for all joor, even in the darkest of days. They chose you because you are their light in this world, and it isn't in your conscience to ignore the call."

"I…I think I understand now," Arminius said.

"You are strong, Arminius," Paarthurnax said. Arminius was taken by surprise at the old Dragon using his real name for once. "You have always been strong. Hin mul los niist hind. So it is your choice, Dovahkiin, and think on what I have said. Do you step up to the glory, or turn your back on your people?"

"You're right," Arminius said, puffing his chest up. "It is my duty to head the call, and so I will answer it." Though it was physically impossible, Arminius could feel what a smile would be on Paarthurnax's face.

"Hi nu ofuun onikaan. Go forth, and fulfill your destiny. As always, I will be near."

* * *

**Kind of a short chapter, but I really just wanted this heart to heart between Arminius and Paarthurnax in this chapter only. In the case that you are wondering, I translated English words into the dragon language using . If you want to see what they are saying, you should go and check it out. **

**As always R&R, and I'll promise to make the next chapter longer. **


	6. Chapter 5

Odahviing had landed Arminius somewhere near his manor in the Falkreath region, just far enough for it to be out of sight of his house. Arminius climbed off of Odahviing, and then gave him a pat on his scales.

"Thanks Odahviing," he thanked. "I'll be seeing you."

"Of course, Dovahkiin," the red dragon replied. "I will heed your call." With that, he flapped his wings and lifted himself into the air, then flying off into the distance.

* * *

It was almost mid-day, and Arminius took a dirt path which crossed one of the main highways, and lead him to his house. It was less than a week, and he had already returned home. He was definitely looking forward to some more of Hadvar and Jenassa's cooking, if they weren't out hunting by now.

As it was his house, he took the initiative to walk in by himself.

"Honey, I'm home," he called out. But the moment he stepped in, he noticed Hadvar and Jenassa, along with several other people with familiar faces gathered around the table. Arminius raised his brow, wondering why his old team was there.

"Delphine? Esbern?" he let out, noticing the two Blades first. The members of their group took no time to greet, instead jumped ahead to business.

"Arminius," he heard Hadvar say, walking to the front of the group. "We have dire news." Arminius approached closer.

"As do I," Arminius replied. "I would like to hear yours first." Delphine put herself next to Hadvar, as if to speak for him.

"To put it blunt, I was right," she said. "The Thalmor are definitely going after us. Mjoll, Erik, and Marcurio were all attacked."

"By the nine," Arminius muttered, then put his eyes on the three mentioned. "Are you guys okay?"

"We're still breathing," Marcurio said. "So yes, we are okay."

"That's good to hear," Arminius said, nodding and giving a light smile to the Imperial mage's humor.

"What about you, Arminius?" Jenassa questioned from her seat. "What news do you have for us?" Arminius stepped through the group to the other side of the room, running a hand through his black hair.

"This may be confusing for you all to hear…" Arminius said, trailing off.

"What is it, Arminius?" He heard Mjoll's thick Nord accent behind him ask in wonder.

"When I met with Tullius in Solitude, a councilor was with him," Arminius said.

"A councilor? You mean from the Elder council?" he heard Erik chime in. "What did he want with you?" Again, Arminius ran his hand through his hand and scratched at his scalp.

"Well to put it simply…" Arminius turned around to face them. "I am a candidate for Emperor of Tamriel."

Marcurio was sipping a drink, and upon hearing the news, he spit it out in pure shock. Jenassa had jumped out of her seat, and looked ever so intently at Arminius. Mjoll and Erik mimicked each other's actions and jumped from their leaning against the wall.

"Are you pulling our legs right now?" Marcurio asked, wiping off some of the drink from his mage's robes.

"I'm not." Arminius saw Esbern slowly approaching from the back of the group.

"I always predicted of a day like this to come," he said. "For the first time in my life, I would see an actual Dragonborn take the throne, a throne that is rightfully his. It is a wise choice, on the part of the Elder Council; and a bold one."

"So what happens with you now?" Mjoll asked.

"Tullius, Rikke, and an Emissary convoy will be waiting for me in Falkreath to give my final consent. I came back to ask my wife for her approval," Arminius explained, and when upon mentioning Jenassa, he looked directly at her.

"I would give you my approval, and I would accompany you, but…" Jenassa said, before she was cut off.

"But what about us?" Erik came in. "Are you to just leave and have the rest of us to the threat of the Thalmor Justiciars?"

"I know, Erik, I know," Arminius said. "With what you have told me, this changes things…" He sat in a seat and put his head in his hands.

"It's your choice, Arminius," Delphine said. They all began to stare at the Dragonborn, who was pondering for a compromise.

_Paarthurnax told me that I shouldn't turn down my fate, but at the same time I shouldn't turn down my friends. It's the Empire at stake here, but damn it, these people have stood by me and understand me more than anybody else would. I'm the Dragonborn, and it's important for me to assume the important role that many other Dragonborn have had before. Wait…important…I'm an important person. What does an important person have? _

Arminius, with candle lighting over his head, slammed his palms down onto the table, shocking the people in the room with him.

"I HAVE IT!" Arminius shouted.

"What! What is it?" Erik shouted back.

"If the people think of me as a very important person, then what does a very important person have?"

"Uhh…servants?" Hadvar attempted to answer.

"Well yes, but he would have a personal guard," Arminius said enthusiastically. "To avoid me abandoning you, you will all come to Cyrodiil with me."

"And what's this about a…personal guard?" Mjoll asked, confused on that part.

"To let it slip past Tullius and the councilor, every one of you, except for Jenassa who is my wife, will pose as my personal guard." Arminius got up and went around the room, gathering whatever mug he could and setting it out on the table.

"See, as a personal guard, as long as I request it, you would need to accompany me to any place, and nobody can say otherwise." Arminius grabbed a large bottle of mead, and began pouring it into each of the mugs. "It can work, and it will work." Once he was finished pouring the drinks, he said, "So what do you say?"

"I suppose I can come up with worse," Marcurio said, setting aside his original mug and grabbing a new filled one.

"Compromise always was one of your best aspects, wasn't it Arminius?" Mjoll said, also picking up a mug. Erik, Hadvar, Jenassa, and Delphine all agreed with him, and then picked up a mug as well. Arminius, with the happiness of the moment, pulled Jenassa close to him and wrapped his arm over her shoulder, and held up the mug full of mead. The rest mimicked and held up their mugs in cheers.

When they were done gulping down the mead, Erik had stated with a bright smile on his face.

"Does this mean we are going on an adventure?" Arminius chuckled.

"You could say that."

Erik and Mjoll both looked at each other excitedly, knowing each other's passion for adventure. This was to be an adventure indeed.

* * *

**R&R **


	7. Chapter 6

**Okay guys, warning: Steamy Sex scene between Arminius and Jenassa coming up in this chapter.**

* * *

It was later that night; everyone had picked a spot to sleep in the house and waited for the morning to come. Hadvar had left the manor to go and inform his family of what was going to happen in Riverwood; a trip going there and back which would last until morning.

Arminius and Jenassa lay in the bed together, barely getting any sleep. The Dark Elf had laid her head on the Imperial's chiseled chest, hearing the sound of his heartbeat, while he wrapped his arm around her comfortingly.

"What will happen now?" She said, almost whisperingly. Arminius gently stroked her bare shoulder.

"Enjoy the calm before the storm, I guess," Arminius replied. Jenassa lifted herself and looked at him directly.

"I mean, what would you do as Emperor?" He brushed her cheek.

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe…reform socially, try to re-introduce freedom of religion."

"Doesn't that violate the White-Gold concordat?" Jenassa asked. Arminius stopped brushing her cheek.

"I'm not Titus Mede, and I'm not a Thalmor puppet," he said, before he drooped his eyes. "At least, I hope I won't be." He sighed in defeat. "Dammit, I don't want to go into war immediately after I arrive; how can I be the leader that the people need?" Jenassa lifted her hand and rested it on his cheek.

"Through time and effort, my Emperor," she said. Arminius was slightly aroused by her new term for him, _my Emperor_. He leaned forward and planted a long and warm kiss on her lips, one that she graciously returned back. Their kiss carried on, and they couldn't stop. As it was getting hotter for them, he moved down to her shirt, which he proceeded to button down then strip off for her.

As they kept up their kiss, he began massaging her stomach area, and then eventually up to her breasts.

"Mmm…wait," he said, in between the kisses. Jenassa paused and then looked at him concernedly.

"What?" She asked.

"We're in a house full of people," he said. "It's a little awkward."

"And?" She said, leaning down and beginning to nibble at the nape of his neck.

"And I think that we should wait…until we are completely alone," He said, trying to suppress a moan. "What if someone hears us?" He was silenced and he let out a soft gasp as he felt her hand slide into his pants brush along the skin of his now erect member.

"They know we're happily married," she whispered into his ear, as she wrapped her fingers around his erection and began stroking it.

"Oh…gods…" he let out. Jenassa silenced him by planting another long kiss onto his lips, while she continued to stroke. Eventually, she slipped off of the kiss and brushed her nose down his body, going from his chest, to abdomen, to pelvis, until she approached his shaft that was hanging out of his pants. Arminius brushed his hand through her hair, as she slid her lips on his skin and making her way up to the tip. She teased him, holding her nose above the slit as if to smell it. Sensing that Arminius was silently begging, she proceeded to put her lips around the gland and slide down, taking in the size of his cock in her mouth.

Feeling her mouth on him, he breathed out in pleasure, resting his hand on the back of her head as she began to thrust. She continued this for a while, and in return he moaned softly, hoping that his visitors won't hear them.

She stopped and removed the cock from her mouth, leaving it wet and moist with her saliva. She looked up at him, and he looked down at her; both making silent agreements on their next moves.

She crawled up closer to him, intentionally dragging her breasts across his chest and to his face, where he began suckling on them like a baby. When he would suck on one tit, he would move his free hand to the other and massage it, then reversing it as they go. Eventually, it reached the point where his tongue could taste lactated breast milk, which in the heat of the moment, tasted good.

Arminius decided it was her turn for an oral receiving and he gently laid her on her back side. Kissing again, then Arminius dragging his nose and lips down her body like she did to him, he reached her sensitive area and brushed his lips around the pink spots. Jenassa spread her legs and wrapped them around his neck, pulling his face tighter to her vaginal area.

Arminius took this as his time to deliver, and stuck his tongue out till the tip of it was teasing her clitoris. She moaned angrily, wishing he could get on with it, then vigorously grabbed at the back of his head and forced him in. He took no mind of her, and proceeded to full on lick her now wet pussy, pushing his tongue inside, licking around, and sucking at her clit.

She moaned and grunted, almost loud enough for the whole house to hear. While going at her, Arminius stretched his muscular arm to her mouth, and laid his fingers inside for her to suck on; hopefully it would help suppress her loud moans.

When she reached her orgasm, he would have to cover her mouth to quiet her down, considering she had intense climaxes when at the mercy of his tongue. Then he would continue to lick her off, successfully reaching another three orgasms.

They were both now drenched in sweat, and they had retreated from each other to opposite sides of the bed for her to take a breather. When she caught her breath, she took a glance at his now even harder erection. He smirked seductively, and crawled over to her, letting their faces touch when they engaged in another kiss. While trading their saliva, Jenassa began feeling at his cock, which was poking at her stomach, making him even more aroused.

Arminius broke the kiss and looked deeply into her eyes; both nodding in between their breaths in agreement for him to penetrate her. She spread her legs and he slid up in between them, sliding his member along the top of her pussy to tease her. He then prodded her, and then when she was anxious enough, he gently slid in.

She moaned in pleasure, feeling the softness of him now inside of her. He started off gentle, slowly going in and out while they both caressed each other's hot and sweaty bodies. He gradually sped up, increasing each other's pleasure, and they got too caught up in the moment that he was thrusting so hard and so fast that it nearly shook the entire room. The sound of their lower bodies clapping together, their sex noises that they forgot to cover up.

Every now and then, they would switch positions; her on top, doggy-style, a tight hug, slipping and sliding on each other's grease.

"I'm close," he yelled, as she was bouncing up and down on top of him. Their thrusting became faster, and he eventually exploded inside of her. As he was experiencing his intense orgasm, he vigorously grabbed a hold of her and pushed his face into her chest, releasing a loud and uncontrolled grunt into her skin. She held tightly to him as well, stuffing her nose into his sweaty hair and stiffening as she felt his warm load fill her up.

They breathed, easing up on their tight hold till it eventually became a loving embrace. Definitely a night to remember.

* * *

Unfortunately, their loud sex noises had woken up Mjoll. She stood at their door in full nude, peeking in through the crack that she opened up. Her hand was now wet from her vaginal juices, as she had just finished masturbating to the Imperial and Dark Elf fucking. When it seemed the two were done, Mjoll retreated back to her guest room, with a bright red blush.

* * *

**Okay, well behold: my first time ever writing a descriptive sex scene in a fanfiction, ever. Sorry If I made it seem a little too pornographic, especially at the end where I show Mjoll masturbating to them. I guess I got a little too ahead of myself with my sexual fantasies; also considering that I think Mjoll is one sexy hot Nord, and I kinda wanted to involve her somehow. **

**Anyways, R&R. **


	8. Chapter 7

In the morning, Jenassa had set up a bath for them. She was currently bathing, while Arminius was busy packing several possessions of theirs into separate traveler bags. Hadvar had returned home earlier, probably around three, and was awake making a large breakfast for their group ever since. The rest of them were all doing the same thing, which was packing gear that they needed, or other things they could take from the house. Truth is, Arminius and the group might not be coming back to this place for a while.

Jenassa switched out with her husband, and he bathed for the next ten minutes. After that was done, they both dressed in casual clothing for the moment, just to have some breakfast.

They walked down stairs together and entered the kitchen, where they saw Hadvar cooking and serving different things, along with Erik, Marcurio, and Delphine eating some of his work.

"So glad you could join us," Marcurio said, wiping his mouth with a cloth.

"I'll get something for you two right away," Hadvar said, frantically gathering several things together. The two sat down next to each other, and then noticed there were pre-set mugs of fresh squeezed juice. Arminius took the glass and chugged most of it down, feeling the thirst that took him wash away.

"So when will we leave?" He heard Delphine say. Arminius gulped down what he had in his mouth and set his cup down.

"Well," he said. "The convoy is supposed to be arriving later this morning." Hadvar came by and set down several plates full of assorted meats and vegetables. "Thanks." He said. "Say…Where's Esbern? And Mjoll?"

"Esbern is still asleep, and Mjoll," she answered. "I think she may be up in her room still." He nodded, and began eating his food. Moments later, he heard Erik start talking to Marcurio.

"Do you keep books like this in your bag all the time?" he said, laughing. They looked over and noticed that he had an open book in his hands called "The Lusty Argonian Maid."

"Hey," Marcurio said defensively. "That book is hilarious. Now you put that back!" Marcurio got up and started wrestling with Erik for control of the book. Their little dispute was taken into the next room, where Mjoll walked past them and sat down at the table, feeling awkward about last night.

Hadvar had set out another plate for her and she began eating, not looking up from her plate.

"Did you sleep well?" She heard Arminius say. She reluctantly looked up at him to see him smirking at her, and she grew another blush that she was trying to hold back.

"Umm…" she stuttered. "Yes I did." She went back down to eating.

"Hey," Arminius said to her. She popped back up to look at him.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied quickly. "I'm just a little disoriented from getting up is all."

"But I thought you said you slept well?" Arminius questioned, raising an eyebrow to her. Mjoll had to take some chance to make an excuse.

"Oh…I did?" She said, acting like she really was disoriented and that she said yes without realizing.

Hmm, I see," Arminius said. "Well, just eat some breakfast and it's sure to get you back on track." Erik and Marcurio rolled by on the floor, still fighting for the book. "Oh, and don't mind them, they're having a little scuffle over a book is all."

* * *

It was mid-day, and Arminius was sure that the convoy has arrived in Falkreath. He had dressed in his Legionnaire armor and was getting a horse of his ready. The rest of his team, who would act as his personal guard, were all ready as well, with rolls and sacks latched up onto their saddles. Everybody was in their usual attire; Erik, Mjoll, and Hadvar had all donned Steel armor; Marcurio had his usual mage's robes; Jenassa in her leather armor, and Delphine and Esbern with hooded robes on to cover themselves better.

Arminius mounted his horse and rode up to the front of their group, where he stopped next to his Dunmer wife. He turned his horse around to look at the rest of them.

"Are we all ready?" He asked. They were all silent, but they nodded for approval. "Right, let's head out." He kicked his horse in the ribs and went off, with the group following close behind.

* * *

They made it to the town of Falkreath, where they saw a line of horses and soldiers that have dismounted them. The soldiers were in little groups talking with each other, and some of them were occasionally walking in and out of stores. The group of eight rode past them all and made their way to the front, where they saw Legate Rikke, Tullius, and Councilor Motierre all conversing with one another.

The group stopped, and only Arminius was the one to dismount and approach them. They all turned to face him.

"Ahh," Motierre let out. "So you have reached your final decision?"

"I have Councilor," Arminius replied. "I give you my permission to take us to the Imperial City."

"Us?" Amaund questioned, and then he looked over Arminius' shoulder to the group that was with him. Tullius and Rikke also looked over and immediately recognized them, especially when they saw Hadvar.

"Yes, Councilor, us," he replied. "They are my personal guard, and I require them to accompany me." Motierre rubbed his chin and nodded.

"I see," he said. "Well I guess that'll be alright."

"I'm also bringing my wife along with me, seeing that it's a little improper just to leave my wife at home while I live in Cyrodiil," he said, chuckling a little.

"Is your wife that Nord girl?" Motierre asked, rather loudly. Upon hearing his words, Mjoll blushed and lowered her head. Arminius scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.

"Umm…no," he let out. "My wife is Jenassa; she's the dark elf." He pointed his finger behind him, to Jenassa who was giving the councilor a cold look.

"Oh," Motierre said, widening his eyes and then looking away. "Oh dear this may be a problem," he muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Arminius said, trying to hear his words.

"Oh, nothing," Morierre smiled, giving Arminius a pat on the breast plate. "I was just beating myself up over the misunderstanding." Arminius nodded and then turned to the General who was about to speak.

"Legate Constantine," he started. "The High King has sent me with his word, and he told you to look out for Skyrim."

"Tell him that if this works, I'll make sure of it," Arminius said.

"I'll see to it," Tullius replied, nodding. "I'll have Legate Rikke here go with you and the Councilor to Cyrodiil." Both Arminius and the Legate nodded to each other in acknowledgement. "And Arminius."

"Yes?"

"If you need anything from me, just let me know," he said, saluting him then walking off. Hadvar bent over and whispered to Jenassa.

"Did the General just salute Arminius?" he asked. His question was not answered, as Jenassa only looked at the conversation going on.

"Now that goodbyes are over, shall we be off?" Motierre asked, smirking.

"Sure thing," Arminius replied.

The journey to come would take them nearly a week and a half to reach the Imperial city. They started off that day leaving Falkreath and heading south. To reach the border would take nearly two days on its own. Every now and then they would come across a wolf pack, but it wouldn't prove to be anything so dangerous.

Eventually, they will reach the pale pass, which marks their crossing of the border, and taking them into the Jerall Mountain range.

* * *

**So it's a pretty short chapter, but I wanted to finish this sequence off and pull it into the next sequence, which would be them in Cyrodiil before Arminius becomes the Emperor. I also left off with some other questions. Does Mjoll the Lioness have a thing for the married Dragonborn? **

**Read and Review please. **


	9. Sequence 2: Cyrodiil, Chapter 8

**So here is the start of sequence 2. This deals with the group being in Cyrodiil, before Arminius becomes the Emperor and while he is going through the political process of being the Emperor. **

**Here are a couple of more Authors' notes in order to put more words onto the document. **

**1: I must ask you all, are there any concepts that you wish me to expand on? Do you have any ideas for me, or an OC's you want me to drag in for those concepts? Basically, as I write this story, I figure out new concepts as I go, and I think of how I can add it in their without swaying from the overall story. Feel free to leave it in a review. **

**2: About the over-the-top sex scene, it did seem pornographic. But so is sex itself. When I write my stories and I have sexual themes in it, they are pretty strong sexual themes and they also appeal to the sense of excitement that comes from sex. The last sex scene I wrote, I had Mjoll watching in the background, only because I want to set up this over-the-top, Game of Thrones like sexual romance. Plus, unlike most people, I'm a big supporter of sexual appeal for both men and women in games, comics, movies, and books. So expect a lot of sex in the future; maybe not all descriptive, but it's there. **

**Anyways, onto the story.**

* * *

Their journey took them to Bruma, then to Chorrol, before finally reaching the outskirts of the Imperial city only a week and a half-later.

The convoy rested on a basin, one that gave them a great view of the White-Gold tower. Delphine and Esbern were minding their own business, trying not to draw too much attention to themselves, while the Dragonborn and the other five were standing side by side, looking out at the sight.

"I always wanted to see the White-Gold tower," Erik said enthusiastically. "Do you think we'll be able to go inside?"

"Probably," Arminius replied, crossing his arms.

"If you become Emperor, where will you be staying?" He heard Mjoll ask.

"In the Imperial palace, I believe," he answered. "The same place where the Elder Council holds their meetings."

"I wouldn't suggest you plan your livelihood yet," Motierre said from behind. "It will still take a while before the council can make a decision; and if there is a second option, then it would only be worse."

"A second option?" Hadvar questioned.

"Yes," Motierre said. "The Council at this point is very divided. No doubt that the High Elf representatives have plans of their own."

"High Elf representatives?" Arminius also questioned. "I thought the Elder Council had representatives for races in regions that are in Imperial occupation?"

"It was a part of the White-Gold Concordat," Motierre said. "That specific part of it is usually not remembered by the people."

"I knew that," Marcurio piped in, raising his hand up. His face grew a smirk, as if he was proud of knowing something few others knew.

"Be ready," they heard Legate Rikke call out. "We're moving in five." Motierre turned to Arminius.

"You best get ready, but there are a few things before we move out," he said. The other five had moved to get ready, leaving the councilor and Dragonborn alone to speak. "We are most likely not going straight to the Elder Council chambers; you must look presentable first."

"Okay, well how are we going to do that?" Arminius asked.

"In the Elven Gardens District, there is a spa house called "Rumana's," Motierre explained. "I usually go there weekly for a treatment, and…toadmiretheelvengirlsthere…but…yeah," he spoke fast, almost embarrassed. "You shall go there for a session and at my expense as well. If your guards wish to accompany you, so be it. I have a discount there anyway."

"What's a spa?" Erik asked, coming out of nowhere.

"You've never heard of a spa before?" Marcurio also came out of nowhere. "It's where you go to relax and to refresh!"

* * *

Their convoy had taken them over the bridge that crossed Lake Rumare, and landed them on the center island that held the Imperial city. The main gate was made out of Iron and Steel, and maybe some bronze as well. It had an insignia on it, which was of the Empire's logo. They were stopped there by a soldier wearing a special kind of armor; definitely was the Imperial Guard.

"Halt," the guard shouted, approaching Legate Rikke. "State your name, rank, and business."

"Legate Rikke of the fourth Legion," Rikke replied sternly. "We are escorting Councilor Amaund Motierre, and an Emperor candidate." The guard nodded, and saluted them.

"You may pass," he stated, before stepping back to his position, and to wait for some of the citizens that were waiting behind the convoy. Usually, the gates would be open and free to anyone to move in and out as they please. With the assassination of the Emperor, however, the Imperial guard had to follow the standard protocol in a situation like this, which was to limit access and increase defense.

Two other guards had pulled open the gates to let them through, revealing a site that amazed the group of newcomers. Upon entering, they saw the streets filled with masses of people, of all different races. Conversation, bargaining, song and dance, walking, pulling carts of hay, riding on horses, Imperial guard marches, etc. The Chatter and the loud noise of the crowded public really brought it alive, and created a new environment that the six have never been in before; but it was fascinating to them.

"Wow," Erik let out. "I've never been in a place like this before; it's amazing."

"I agree," Mjoll said, also basking in its excellence. Even Hadvar and Jenassa were both taken back by it. Delphine and Esbern, however, had remained silent, keeping up their low profile.

* * *

They had found stables where they could rent spaces for their horses, and they had all dismounted. Erik and Mjoll were walking around the area with each other, pushing past groups of people and pointing at several things that they found interesting. Their fascination was intriguing to Marcurio, but he had also been interacting with several of the citizens. Arminius approached Delphine and Esbern.

"Delphine," he said. The Breton woman turned around to see him with a straight face. "I think its best that you two split up from us."

"Right," she replied. "If anybody would stand out here, it would be us. We'll go into hiding, try to blend in with the crowds. We'll find you if we need you."

"Don't bother," he said, his voice suddenly becoming cold.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't affiliate myself with you anymore, remember?" Arminius said. "Bringing you here, I did you a favor; the others are here because they are my friends, and they can stay with me, but I'm done with you two."

"Is this still about Paarthurnax?" Delphine said, matching his tone.

"You know damn well it is," Arminius replied. "Someday, I may let it go, but not today."

"Fine then, we'll be off," Delphine said, pulling her hood up over herself then storming away. Esbern stared sadly at Arminius for the next few moments before turning and walking off to catch up with Delphine. Behind the hood however, when Delphine was far enough away, her face grew depressed, and she looked down in regret.

Arminius sighed, closing his eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Came Jenassa. Arminius was hesitant, but he nodded.

"I'm fine."

Hadvar came up on his other side.

"I'm guessing that they are going their own way now?"

"Yeah."

* * *

**So how was it? Review and don't forget to answer my question if you have any concepts, ideas, or characters you want me to expand on. **


	10. Chapter 9

The group had entered the Elven Gardens district, and with the sunshine, it stood as the brightest and happiest looking place they had seen in the Imperial City yet. As it was named, this specific district held a lot of Elves; some stores, homes, taverns, most of them run by Elves.

The Councilor, along with the Dragonborn and the other three guys were heading to Rumana's, the spa treatment place that Motierre said they should go first. When Motierre gave a more thorough description of how it was, Arminius decided it was best for Jenassa and Mjoll to go and do their own thing, while the guys could get it done.

According to Motierre, all the employees there were elven females, exotic, and took a rather sexual approach to their customers. Their job was to basically do everything for you, whether it be to massage you, bathe you, shave you, or even to give you a good show (if you know what I mean.) They would barely let you lift a finger. He also said it was named after the owner, who was a female High Elf.

On the way there, Motierre also planned for them to be staying at a high-class hotel. It was called the Tiber Septim hotel, and it also offered a restaurant of fine foods and dishes from across Tamriel.

Upon arriving, they all stood in wonder at the building. The sign on it stated the name of the store, and what its services were.

"This is it," Erik said enthusiastically. "My first spa treatment."

"I don't know about this," Hadvar said. "I don't really like being touched in awkward places."

"You should really lighten up, Hadvar," Marcurio said, giving him a pat on his shoulder. "It's just a spa, nothing too violating."

Motierre started off, and the others followed. When they entered, they noticed a desk that had a receptionist behind it. She was a tall High-Elf girl, with silky golden hair, and it looked as though she had on red robes made of silk. This business must've been funded by a very wealthy source; silk was very rare in Tamriel. She looked up and noticed the Councilor first, and she gave a warm smile.

"Councilor Motierre," She called enthusiastically. "Welcome back, how are you today?"

"I'm well, Rumana," Motierre replied, putting his hands behind his back. So Rumana was the owner of the place, and the receptionist? Intriguing.

"Oh," she let out, noticing the four other humans that walked in with him. "Who are your friends, Councilor?"

"This is the Arminius Constantine, he is the Dragonborn and a candidate for Emperor. His personal guard is with him as well," Motierre said, pointing to Arminius.

"The Dragonborn?" She said, shocked. She stepped out from behind the desk and approached him. "I've heard stories about you! I must say it's a real honor to have you in my presence." Getting up close to him brought out her Altmer stature. She was of course taller than him, and even taller than Hadvar and Erik. She extended her hands eagerly, and Arminius took them with a smile.

"Am I that popular down here?" He asked.

"Of course," she replied. "A man from Cyrodiil is the first Dragonborn in ages and beats the dragons? Why wouldn't he be known?"

"He will have the usual course, Rumana" came Motierre from beside her. "Same with the other three; and I will be paying."

When Rumana acknowledged, she went to the back where she told all her employees that it was someone very important, and that they needed to do their best. The four gentlemen waited until they saw each employee come out dressed in the same red or blue silk robes, all of which this time revealed a lot more skin. These elven girls were, like Motierre said, exotic. They were a mix of different Elves; Altmer, Dunmer, and mostly Bosmer; and they were all lightly made up, which served a little difference to the occasional elf woman they would see on the street. What else was different were the standing poses they had; all very feminine like, hands on their hips, bent waist.

When they saw the Dragonborn and his friends, they all smiled and began to whisper to each other.

"Oh, he's cute," were one of the things that he heard in their little chatter. Erik was actually taken by surprise; he never thought that a spa would be like this, and neither did Hadvar. Marcurio just stood away for a second, looking up into the air and whispered to himself, "By the eight, thank you."

"Get to business, girls!" Rumana ordered. They all approached them, each of the girls picking out their favorites and latching to their arms, and then leading them into the main spa area.

* * *

The process of going through a spa session would last maybe two hours. With the scene the four guys are in right now, the elven girls had stripped down to some very revealing silk undergarments. Hadvar was lying face down on a soft bench. His back was oiled and was being rubbed by a Bosmer girl who seemed to have great use of her hands. Erik was also facing the same treatment as Hadvar, and he seemed to be enjoying it as well. Most of the elven girls seemed to be more focused on Arminius and Marcurio, who were both, relaxing in a circular pool of hot, steamy water.

Arminius laid up against a Dunmer girl, who was giving him a neck and shoulder massage, while another Bosmer and Altmer were spreading soap on his arms. Marcurio was receiving something similar, with another girl holding out a vine of grapes above for him to eat off of.

"Oh, by the gods," Erik moaned. "I should've tried this years ago!"

"You said it," Hadvar said, fully admitting that his reluctance to taking this session was unwarranted.

"I could stay like this…forever," Marcurio said, lying back and putting his hands over his head for support.

"If my wife found out about this-oh yeah, right there-she would kill me," Arminius said, succumbing to the mercy of the Dunmer girl's fingers.

"Speaking of your wife," Marcurio said. "Where is she and Mjoll right now?"

"I think she said something about the Market District," Arminius replied. Another elven girl got into the water with them, and she spread some cream on Arminius' face, and then used a razor to shave off his growing facial hair till it was just the light stubble.

* * *

The Market District was more lively and active than the Elven Gardens District, but a lot less bright. It held crowds of people who were moving from shop to shop and doing street side bargaining. Mjoll and Jenassa walked side by side in the clearest area of the street, occasionally stepping out of the way of oncoming carriages or other people.

"You know," Mjoll said to Jenassa, trying to bring up a friendly conversation with her. "I don't think you ever told me about how you and Arminius met." Jenassa walked with her hands behind her back, answering her.

"We met at the Siege of Whiterun, back in the war," She replied.

"What was happening?" Mjoll asked. Jenassa's first thought was that it was a completely asinine question, considering that 'Siege of Whiterun' is pretty self-explanatory; but she answered anyway.

"He was put in charge of the unit that was to hold the front gate, and my mercenary unit was aside his at the time," Jenassa could feel more questions from Mjoll, so she decided to answer them ahead of time. "We saw each other again at the Battle of Cold Harbor, then at Windhelm. We formed a bond, one that could only be formed when in battle, until he disappeared. Only a year later and he returns from his training with the Greybeards, and he sought my help to defeat the dragons with him. Then our team was formed, and my bond with him had grown." Jenassa looked up at the Nord. "Why do you ask?"

"It's nothing important," Mjoll said, nervously chuckling. "Just curious, is all."

"Or you're just jealous," Jenassa said, scoffing. Mjoll looked down at her in surprise.

"What?"

"I can sense it in your tone," Jenassa said, calmly. "When I called you jealous, you became defensive."

"No, I'm not jealous…" Mjoll stuttered, trying to collect herself.

"You still sound defensive," Jenassa said. "Is it because he reminds you of Aerin? If Aerin was a capable warrior and a dragon hunter?"

"I would never compare anyone to Aerin, and not because I want your husband…" Mjoll argued, but was cut off by a shocking statement.

"Then explain the night before we left." Mjoll looked at her confusedly.

"What?"

"You pleasured yourself while watching us mate," Mjoll's face drained of the blood, and she stopped dead in her tracks, with Jenassa stopping with her as well.

"How did you know that?"

"So you admit to it?"

"But how did you know I watched you two?!"

"We were in the darkness, and the darkness serves as my ally," Jenassa replied. "I'm not nocturnal, but I can notice things around me better when in dark places." Mjoll remained silent this time, her face red with embarrassment. "And from what I noticed behind the crack of our door, you had your full attention on Arminius." Jenassa looked up and faced Mjoll. "It's okay to admit it; Arminius is a very charming, handsome man; it really is no surprise to me that you would take an interest in him even though he is married to me."

Mjoll was still afraid to admit it. She was right; Arminius reminded her of Aerin if he was a warrior, which was why she was attracted to him so much. To think that that Dunmer woman took those thoughts right out of her head, and put in her words; was she some sort of mind harvester?

"It's fine on my terms," Jenassa continued. "You can continue to pleasure yourself to him all you like, just keep your distance." They began walking again, this time in an awkward silence.

"Have you ever thought about what Erik feels about you?" Jenassa spoke up.

"What?" Mjoll said, confusedly.

"I can sense it in him as well," Jenassa said. "He has an interest in you. Your experience of adventure attracts him to you. You may already know this, but you two are very much alike; you both desire adventure, and you have the same mentality."

"You're right," Mjoll said, tiredly. The awkward and shocking conversation she had with Jenassa really weighed down on her.

* * *

**Remember to read and review guys. I'm open to basically anything. **


	11. Chapter 10

During the guys' spa session, Councilor Motierre had went ahead to make the arrangements at the Tiber Septim hotel. When he returned, he found the four all relaxed and cleaned up; the girls did another great job. He paid the fee, and went off with the guys following.

Motierre told Arminius that they were to meet the Elder Council the next day, and they needed to go to the Market District to find some high-class formalwear for him. For now, Erik, Marcurio, and Hadvar were free to explore the Imperial city as they like, and if they were to get lost, they would need to talk to the guards.

Erik and Hadvar were walking with each other through the Talos plaza district, until out of the corner of his eye, Erik saw a poster glued up to a wall. He turned his head fully and noticed the colorful pictures and large bolded words on it.

"What's that?" Erik asked, pulling Hadvar away from his own thoughts. Erik made his way over to the poster on the wall curiously, and he could make out what it said.

_Arena_

_Jeebi the Large vs. Uzulac gro-Azorgrak _

Underneath the statement was a professionally done illustration of a giant muscular Nord man in a horned helmet and an even bigger muscular Orc facing off against each other.

"Is this a sport?" said Erik, his voice hinting enthusiasm at finding something he may be interested in.

"Could be," Answered Hadvar, putting his hand up to his chin in wonder.

"It says Arena," Erik said stating the obvious. "Does this city have a fighting arena?"

"It's a pretty large city, so I'm sure there is."

"That's amazing!" Erik shouted in excitement. "Can we go and see this fight, please?" He begged, like a six year old would beg his mom to get him something. Hadvar thought on it for the moment.

"What would Arminius say?" He said; Erik pouted.

"Oh come on," he complained. "Arminius will be with the Elder Council, probably for the next few weeks. We have plenty of time on our hands."

"Hmm…" Hadvar thought. "Well the fight is in two days…I guess we can spare the time." Erik pulled his fist down in one motion as in celebration and quietly whispered to himself "Yes!"

"We should invite Mjoll to come along with us," Erik said. "I'm sure she'd find it fun."

"She's really the only person you ever talk about besides yourself," Hadvar said. The two of them began walking again, making their way down the main street.

* * *

Arminius had tried on a very nice blue suit with a buckle that wrapped around his waist. He decided that he should get that specific outfit. With the money that Motierre gave him, he made the purchase and went out of the store with the outfit folded up in his arm. He looked through several other stores, until he came to one called 'The Main Ingredient.'

When he stepped inside, he noticed all the different containers of spices and natural ingredients that were harvested from Nirn. Essentially, the main ingredient offered resources that proved vital to both cooking and alchemy.

He saw Jenassa taking a look around inside, with her back to him and Mjoll standing by her side, bored. He was not surprised, he knew of his wife's hobby for Alchemy, so it's no wonder she was in there. He approached them.

"Hey," he said. Jenassa and Moll both turned around, and Mjoll stood out of Jenassa's way.

"You look different," she said in her own little greeting. "You shaved, right?"

"Yeah…I shaved," he said, chuckling. He was holding back the smile for he knew he had some other elven girl shave off some of the length of his facial hair for him.

"What's that?" Mjoll asked, motioning to the folded up clothing in his arm.

"Formal wear," he replied. "It's for when I meet with the Elder Council."

"And when will that be?" Jenassa asked.

"Tomorrow," he answered, simply. "The sun is setting, we should get to the hotel."

"Hotel?" Mjoll questioned, raising a brow. That's right, Arminius didn't tell them.

"Yeah, the Tiber Septim Hotel," Arminius said. "Motierre bought out several rooms for us to stay in."

"Nice to see the Councilor is putting down most of his coin for us," Jenassa said.

"I'm grateful," came Mjoll.

"Enough chatter, we should get moving; the Talos Plaza District is about 30 minutes away on foot."

* * *

The darkened colors of the hotel's interior made for a very peaceful and luxurious environment. It was night-time outside; it surely brought out the wonders and mischief of the Imperial City's nightlife, but in their hotel it stood a temporary peace.

Erik, Hadvar, Marcurio, and Mjoll were all confined to one room, probably having to share two king sized beds. Arminius and Jenassa were given a separate room of their own, considering that they are the couple out of all of them.

The light on Jenassa's side of the bed was blown out, leaving that half of the room in darkness as she slept. Arminius' side was still lit, and he was sitting up on the edge of the bed in his undergarments. He was tired, but he didn't want to sleep just yet. He wanted to think of the day's events, even the past week's events.

About a week and a half ago, they started off on a journey to his homeland and the heart of Tamriel, because a Councilor, a Breton representative, wanted him to take the position as Emperor. Paarthurnax had convinced him to go and accept the turn of events as fate.

His friends came along with him because the Thalmor Justiciars in Skyrim were hunting them down, and bringing them to Cyrodiil would serve as a temporary solution to keep the threat away for a bit.

Now here they are, sleeping in a high-class hotel with the Councilor putting down tons of coin on them; he must really want Arminius to be the Emperor.

Arminius was busy thinking about tomorrow; what would he say as an introduction, or what would he have to do? The questions in his mind were floating around, until Arminius decided to calm down and lay in bed.

As he snuggled up to spoon his wife, more thoughts came to his head.

_I'm in my homeland, the place I grew up. It would be improper if I don't return to my parents' farm after all these years._

* * *

**This kinda served as a filler chapter, but it introduced the idea of Erik being interested in the Arena. Will we see him in it? And what will happen at the Dragonborn's meeting with the Elder Council? Find out next chapter. **

**Also, I'm looking at my stories stats, and I must say I'm impressed and disappointed at the same time. With the number of people who see this story, not very many of them leave a review. You guys have to have some sort of input on this story! If you do, I'd love to hear it; I'm open to pretty much anything. **


	12. Chapter 11

Arminius woke up that morning with a knock at his door. He lazily got up and made his way to the door and opened it, squinting at who it was.

"Quickly," It was Motierre, and he was dressed up and ready. "Get dressed so we shall be off." Arminius rubbed his eyes.

"Shouldn't we…" he yawned. "…have breakfast first?"

"We can get breakfast after you meet with the Council," Motierre said, his voice hinted that he was in a rush. "Now get dressed you fool."

"Okay," Arminius acknowledged with the same tired tone. "Just give me several minutes." He shut the door, and slowly turned back towards the bed. He noticed that Jenassa still had her head down in the pillow.

"Was that the Councilor, love?" she said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"Yeah," Arminius replied. "I have to go see the Council; I don't know when I'll be back."

"Mmm…" Jenassa mumbled. "Yeah, sure."

Arminius got on his formal wear, and stepped out of his room to an impatient Councilor who was tapping his foot.

"Are you ready?" Motierre asked. Arminius nodded.

"Yes, take me to the Elder Council."

* * *

The sun had risen, and the activities on the streets were at a minimum. One of the nicer looking places in the Imperial City had all kinds of plant life growing around it, mixing in with the professionally done stone work.

The Councilor and the Dragonborn were walking with haste, making their way up the steps and to the front entrance of the Imperial Palace. They came up to another flight of steps, where they met an Imperial Guard with a stern stance and his arms crossed. The guard halted the two of them.

"The Elder Council is in session," he stated. "What business do you have here?"

"I am Councilor Amaund Motierre, the Breton representative," Motierre greeted. "I am here with a Candidate for the Dragon throne." He motioned to Arminius. The guard nodded, and then chest saluted.

"You may go in, Councilor," the guard said stepping out of their way.

"Thank you."

The two continued on, until they were past the large doors that led into the dark corridors of the Palace. The corridor they were in was just circling around the outside of the Elder Council Chambers. Upon entering the actual chambers, it stood to Arminius as an amazing sight.

On each column, there were banners of each different nation that stood under the Empire and in between it, the Imperial banner itself.

Behind the series of pillars were benches, and they were there for Council sessions that were open to the public to attend. The very middle however, had a large circular table with a bowl like dip in the very middle. Encircling the large table were red chairs, and they were occupied by men and women of all the races under Imperial influence. They all wore the same relative high-class clothing, and were discussing things with each other.

Then he noticed the biggest throne there, which was most likely occupied by the High Chancellor. The man in the seat was middle-aged, and he seemed to have the stature of a Breton. He was of course, the first one to notice them.

"So," The High Chancellors voice made clear to the rest of the council of their presence. "Councilor Motierre finally returns with his claimed 'Dragonborn.'" Motierre wasted no time, and went on to introduce Arminius.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Elder Council," he spoke up. "I introduce to you, Arminius Constantine, The Dragonborn." Concerned conversation had riled up in the Council. Arminius took a good look at them, and noticed the two High Elf councilors who were staring defiantly at him. Next to them was a random Imperial man, with a beard and a balding head.

_Who is that? _Arminius wondered. The High Chancellors voice broke him out of it.

"Greetings to you, proclaimed Dragonborn," The High Chancellor greeted. "I am High Chancellor Garrett Malvolan, and welcome to the Council. I am sure you will meet man new faces while with us."

"Thank you, High Chancellor," Arminius said, nodding. The High Chancellor got up shakily out of his chair.

"I must ask of you something, Mr. Constantine," Malvolan said. "We need to know whether you are Dragonborn or not." The old Breton had approached him. "In legend, the Dragonborn has a natural ability called the Thu'um. It gives the power to use magic with your voice in the Dragon tongue." Arminius was quite surprised at how well informed this High Chancellor was of the Dragonborn legend. "Now tell us, do you have this ability?"

"Yes, I do," Arminius answered. The room's chatter amongst the other Councilors had risen up, most of them were doubting.

"And how many words of power do you know?" Malvolan asked.

"About 15," Arminius replied, bluntly. Suddenly, the male High Elf Councilor piped in loudly.

"This is absurd!" he called. His voice seemed a little obnoxious, but everyone thought that way about High Elves. "He's lying, High Chancellor, it's no doubt!"

"Calm yourself, Mearanil," Malvolan demanded. "Perhaps the Dragonborn can prove you wrong." He turned to Arminius and then stepped out of the way. "Would you care to demonstrate one of your words of power?"

Arminius nodded, and got himself ready, positioning himself to where one of his Thu'um blasts doesn't hit anybody in the council. The room grew silent in anticipation, waiting for the Dragonborn to prove himself. Arminius took a deep breath.

"**Fus Ro DAH!" **He shouted. Upon the command, an aura formed out of his mouth and was projected directly to the area in front of him. The force of the shout had knocked up the wind inside, blowing the hair of each of the councilor's faces.

What the councilors had witnessed, they were taken in awe, and began to converse again on the matter.

"It really is the Dragonborn!" "The Dragonborn really has returned!" "This is such a tremendous honor to be in the Dragonborn's presence!" Were some of the things he heard in their chatter. The High Elf councilors had remained silent, almost like they were pouting. The other Imperial man next to them was amused, actually.

"Dragonborn," the High Chancellor bowed and then looked back up at him. "I am humbled to be in your presence."

"I'm glad to be here, High Chancellor," Arminius replied, smiling.

"With your proof that you are Dragonborn, you are now an official candidate for the Dragon throne," Malvolan said. "Come, Constantine, I would also like you to meet your opposition." Motierre came in out of nowhere, surprised.

"Opposition?" He said. "You mean you have another candidate, High Chancellor?"

"Yes, Councilor Motierre," Malvolan answered, annoyed. "We have another candidate for the throne." Malvolan led Arminius to the other side of the table, while Motierre was holding his head in panic.

"No…this isn't good, this is not good!" He panicked to himself. The Imperial man with the balding hair and the beard that Arminius noticed had gotten up from his chair and dusted himself off. He approached, with a serious face.

"Mr. Constantine," Malvolan said. "I would like you to meet Varius Nero." Arminius didn't smile, but instead extended his hand to the other Imperial. Nero mimicked and took his hand in a shake; Arminius felt a little uncomfortable with his presence, it just bothered him.

"Nero, It's a pleasure meeting you," Arminius said, uneasily. Nero smirked, only adding to his uncomfort.

"I look forward in competing with you, Constantine," His voice was deep and held a tone that seemed a little dis-satisfying. There was something wrong with him, no doubt.

* * *

After the Council was called out of session, Arminius was conversing with some of the other councilors who wished to meet him. While taking with them, he would look around occasionally. He saw his opponent, Nero, talking with the two other High Elf councilors. On the other side of the room, he noticed Motierre complaining to the High Chancellor about something that he couldn't hear from that distance.

While in his conversations with the other councilors, he met some interesting ones. There were councilors Moria Galenus, and Cidius Albuttian, the Imperial representatives; Jeanyn Greenle, the female Breton representative; Vilkne Alaldson and Gisan Singer, the Nord representatives; and Gurub gro-Mogrba and Lashn gra-Luzglg, the Orsimer representatives.

When they went their own ways, the two High Elf councilors approached him, and Arminius' mood went down.

"Good day…Dragonborn," the male greeted almost like a snob.

"Might I ask for your names?" Arminius asked, trying to keep up a polite attitude.

"I'm Councilor Mearanil Faebinder," he said, then motioned to the female next to him. "And this is Councilor Nirmanwe Laemorin." She nodded, but her face was still bitter.

"Nice to meet you two," Arminius replied. The female representative decided to talk.

"We just wanted to say good luck with your campaign against Nero," She said; and with that, the two High Elves had gone back to Nero. Arminius raised a brow, but decided to shrug off the thought of how awkward they were being, and how much attention they were giving Nero. He then heard a little chuckle coming from behind him.

"High Elves aren't very fond of Nordic Legends are they?" The voice held a thick Cyrodiilic accent (Think of a British one) which held a perfect tone between deep and tenor, and had a little sarcasm to it. Arminius turned around and saw a man his size, dressed in Imperial General's armor and a black cloth that wrapped around his head and covered his left eye. He had short black hair that was pushed up due to the black cloth, and heavy stubble that brought out the features of his prominent chin. He was clearly another Imperial, but he was also not a councilor.

The Imperial lifted an apple up to his face and took a bite from it, tearing off a juicy chunk then chewing on it.

"If you're wondering who I am," he said through his chews, and then swallowed. "I am Scipio; Cairus Scipio."

_Scipio? Oh my goodness…_

Arminius was taken by surprise at realization of who it was.

"Wait," he said. "Scipio? You mean THE General Scipio? Commander of the fifth Legion? Lead the Falkreath-Rift Campaign in the Skyrim Civil War?"

"You're damn right I am," Scipio said, smirking. Arminius became excited.

"Sir, it is such an honor to meet you," Arminius said, enthusiastically taking his hand in a quick shake.

"As it is an honor to meet you, Constantine," Scipio said. "I've heard about your involvement in the Skyrim Civil War, and I must say that your leadership when you held the gate at Whiterun is moving. Even when you lead the advance on the shores of Dawnstar at Cold Harbor; brilliant."

"I've read up on your work in Falkreath and the Rift," Arminius said. "The Total War tactics and the Battle of the Treva River, it was tactically brilliant!"

"I see you're a fan of my work, eh?" He laid a hand on Arminius' shoulder. "But I'm sure you're the most interesting character of the Legion. Being just a Legate and the first Dragonborn in two hundred years, and here you are, a potential Emperor. Just imagine it…" He wrapped his arm around Arminius' shoulder and raised his free hand in the air, as if to project a vision. "The return of the Dragonblood lineage to the throne; Emperor Constantine the Dragonborn, or…Emperor Constantine the Great!"

Arminius laughed with him, as Scipio released his hold.

"You know, the name has a nice vibe to it," Arminius said, chuckling.

"It does, doesn't it?" Scipio said. "It really is a great thing though. The fact that I might be able to live through an age where the Emperor is an actual Dragonborn, like the Septim Dynasty."

"Not unless that Varius Nero guy over there takes the throne," Arminius said, motioning to the other Imperial talking to the two High Elf councilors.

"I doubt it," Scipio said, shaking his head. "The council is giving you too much attention; they like you too much already to vote for that rich business man." Scipio looked over at him and his face turned a little more serious. "I can see something is wrong with him though. He has war in his eyes, I can tell; not that he has any experience with war."

"What do you mean?" Arminius questioned, looking at the unaware Nero.

"It's something that soldiers like you and I can see when we see our enemies," Scipio explained. "The aura you can feel when you take a good look at them. He's obviously a sellout of the Thalmor, that's why he's so involved with those two." He said, mentioning the High Elven Councilors. "I can see him and those two declaring war on you in the future."

"Huh," Arminius said. "That's an interesting way to describe him." Scipio smiled and looked at him.

"You know, Constantine," Scipio started. "You and I have some very interesting stories and concepts that would be otherwise awkward to talk about in the Elder Council chambers."

"Are you suggesting we discuss it over a meal?" Arminius asked, anticipating.

"How about it? We can discuss this at the Tiber Septim hotel restaurant, does that sound good?"

"Well that's convenient," Arminius said. "My guards and I are currently staying there. It sounds good Scipio."

With that, the two soldiers walked off, leaving Amaund Motierre on his own to figure things out.

_I've gotta do something about this…I know, I'll have to sway the public! Use propaganda and advertisements. If I bribe the poster makers, it will surely benefit me and the future of the Dragonborn._

* * *

**So I have to say, I'm excited that I put General Scipio in here because he is by far my favorite OC I have made. And if you're wondering about the names, yes, I did name most of the Imperial OC's after known figureheads in Ancient Roman history. Varius Nero is named after Emperor Nero, the guy who burned down Rome because he was crazy. Arminius Constantine was named after Emperor Constantine the Great, the first Christian Roman Emperor. General Cairus Scipio was named after Scipio Africanus, the only Roman General to defeat Hannibal Barca for good; and you'll see why I make that reference to him later on in the story. **

**Anyways, please read and review. Tell me your input on this story, I implore you. **


	13. Chapter 12

"Honey, get dressed!" Arminius called out to his wife in enthusiasm, just as he walked in the door. Jenassa was sitting at the desk that was provided by the hotel service, and was reading another book on alchemy.

"Why is that, dear?" She asked, continuing to read her pages.

"For lunch," Arminius replied, approaching her and laying his hand on her shoulder. "Plus, there's someone I really want you to meet."

"And who might that be?"

"You'll find out when you come downstairs with me," he said, tugging on her shoulder. Jenassa, being annoyed, agreed to his terms and dressed in the best civilian clothing she had brought with her.

* * *

The bottom floor was flooded with the afternoon lunch rush, which made the environment feel livelier than when they first stepped in. Arminius had Jenassa by the hand as he pulled her down the main flight of stairs briskly. He pulled her into the dining area, past all the tables of chatty people, and to a specific one. A man had stood up from their table, wearing Imperial General's Armor, and a black cloth over his left eye.

"Jenassa," Arminius said, letting the man approach them. "I would like you to meet General Cairus Scipio." Jenassa was confused; he was just a General, so why was Arminius fanboying over him? "Scipio, I would like you to meet my wife, Jenassa."

Scipio approached them with a smirk, and he took her hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Constantine," he said, kissing the back of her hand. Jenassa hadn't said a word, for she was taken aback by how quick things were moving. "I take it you're a quiet one; that's okay."

_Lady Constantine? Is this guy a smooth-talker? _

They all sat down, and gave their orders to the waiter. Jenassa, who was not planning or wishing to be there, just sat in silence with her head leaning on her hand, listening to the two Imperials make conversation.

"So what's that eye cover for?" Arminius asked.

"I have a missing eye," Scipio replied.

"What happened?"

"It was at the Battle of the Treva River. My main line was holding off an assault from two sides, and I was on a horse behind them. Just as we were able to repel them, an arrow came and struck me through the eye. I am lucky it did not hit my skull, or my brain," He explained.

"But you lived, won the battle, then went on to capture Riften," Arminius said, anticipating his words.

"I did," Scipio acknowledged. "But I couldn't control myself after; losing my eye at the hands of a group of brutes was difficult for me. When I went in there, I was determined to open up a door that exposes them to disparity; I would then exploit that disparity, and use it against them."

Arminius had leaned in, taking more interest in the story.

"As I did to them, they did to me. I was so enraged that I could barely control myself, and I ordered every prisoner I took at Treva's watch to cruel and unusual executions. After that, for a group of proud and 'honorable' Nords, they were terrified of me. Taking away my eye, they exposed just how cold and ruthless I can be, even if I didn't know it at the time. Like Tullius said, Skyrim has a way of carving a man down to his true self."

"I see," Arminius sat back, in shock at his honest story. Upon hearing it, Jenassa actually took an interest in it. Scipio decided to move on to something else.

"In my teens, when I still had my eye, I was told a story of The Great War and the atrocities that have taken place because of the Thalmor. I was fascinated by the art of their strategy, and growing up, I spent every waking moment studying every battle to ever take place in history. Tiber Septim's conquests, Red Mountain, the Siege of Solitude, the Alessian Rebellion; every conflict in human and mer history. The more I speculated the opposite sides, the more I understood the Art of War."

"You finally got your understanding in the Civil War then, huh?" Arminius said.

"I did," Scipio replied. "The strategy that I have planned for so long had worked, and I proved the Stormcloaks to be human rather than warriors; and when they exposed me to my weakness, I knew I have become something else, and for that I will always respect them."

"So are you all about 'honor'?" Arminius asked. Scipio chuckled a bit.

"No, Constantine, by the eight no," he replied. "The key to a victory is not how best you respect the opposition; it's how best you understand the opposition and respect yourself."

"You must be well read, Scipio," Arminius said.

"Yes, yes I am," Scipio replied. "That's a concept the Stormcloaks never understood, and so they beat themselves. They should've learned after their defeat at Whiterun, but they never did."

"Speaking of Stormcloaks," Arminius mentioned. "Where did they go after the war?"

"They decided that Skyrim was no longer a place for the Nords anymore, so they fled to the island of Solstheim, where they set up their own individual government," Scipio explained. "We had the chance to go after them, and to beat finish them for good, but they were already defeated. We won, and we restored loyalty to Skyrim; at least now, non-Nord Skyrim citizens won't have to worry about being removed due to an all Nord regime." Scipio took a sip of some wine that was poured out in a glass on the table. "So tell me about yourself, Constantine."

"Well," he started. "I was raised in an orphanage for six years until I was adopted by the Constantine family. I grew up on a farm, and attended school. Eventually, I joined the Legion and trained at the age of fourteen. After basic, advanced, and then officer training, I was assigned to the fourth Legion in Skyrim by the time I was eighteen. Upon arriving, I visited Markarth where I was framed for conspiracy and imprisoned for six months in a brutal mining prison."

"Sounds harsh," Scipio said. "How did you get out?"

"I escaped with the Forsworn," Arminius replied. "I never returned to that place again. Unfortunately, as I got out, war had just broken out, and I needed to report to Tullius. I was at Whiterun, and Cold Harbor, then eventually Windhelm. Along the way, I met Jenassa," Arminius put his hand on the quiet Dunmer's shoulder. "She was the leader of a mercenary group."

"Mercenaries, eh?" Scipio raised a brow, looking towards her. "How much did the General pay you?" Jenassa took this as the appropriate time to talk.

"Enough for us to get by," She replied.

"Straight and to the point, I like that." Arminius decided to keep talking.

"In the middle of the war, we had heard about a dragon and were assigned under order of the Jarl of Whiterun to go and check it out. We were ambushed, and fought it off, eventually killing it; that's when I devoured its soul."

"Voluntarily?" Scipio asked, chuckling a little at the thought of Arminius eating a dragon whole.

"No, it just happened," Arminius replied. Scipio nodded. "After the war, I went to train with the Greybeards in the mountains for a year. Eventually I re-united with Jenassa, started a team to hunt dragons, and we beat them."

"Hmm," Scipio thought. "A heroic story that is put to words simply? It's great to hear it."

* * *

**Just a filler chapter, I kind of wanted to get Scipio to reveal his personal character traits. I also want to keep this story at the top of the list, to drag in more views and hopefully more reviews and subscribers. **


	14. Chapter 13

The printer shop was drenched in the aroma of ink, a foul smell. The place was hardly lit, with the occasional window providing the only source of light; even then, the windows were separated by iron bars, making it seem a lot like a prison of machinery.

The dozens of workers that were there had varying different races. Some were Dunmer, forced out by the explosion of Red Mountain in Morrowind; some Orcs, Bosmer, Nords, and Breton, all equipped with a background. Their hands were soaked and marked with the ink that they were handling, even getting a little on their aprons and even their faces. From a heart-bleeders point of view, it would seem as though the wages were low, the conditions were tough, or they were mistreated. It was quite the opposite, in fact, most of the workers there had chosen this job by their own means, and not specifically that they were forced into it.

Ironically, they would get paid decently despite the fact that the current manager of the shop and business was a grumpy old Orc, with white hair and bags under his eyes. Motierre knew that when he approached the Orc in his dimly lit office made of wood.

Motierre had his hands behind his back, keeping up a posture to maintain formality. The Orc raised and eye-brow, looked over his appearance, and then scoffed.

"What is it you want, Breton?" the Orc's deep and raspy voice defined his heritage, and his age. Motierre began to slowly pace back and forth.

"I have something I want you to do," he said. "It's important that you and I cooperate." The Orc remained silent, giving the Breton a confused face. "I want you to create a new line of posters, as I describe them."

"What makes you think I would just do that for you?" the Orc said, sitting back in the chair and crossing his arms. As a response to that, Motierre threw down a thick sack of coin onto the desk, the ching of the gold twitching the old Orc's ears. The Orc looked at it for a moment, and then leaned forward in his chair, looking back up at Motierre.

"So how many are we talking about?"

* * *

The High Chancellor said that the Council wouldn't be meeting for another week and a half. He said that they would come together once, and discuss the issue with the absence of the two candidates. Then they would have another session with the two candidates to try and have their inputs and what they would be looking to achieve, and in how they would approach it. They would then meet one last time for a final debate and an official vote on the candidates by the Councilors, and the majority vote would win.

In that sort of political process, several things need to be considered. One, the candidate's leadership skills; two, the candidate's reputation; three, the candidate's goals; four, public opinion on the candidate's; and five, the councilor's personal input.

When Arminius is called in, he will heed it; but it seems that it will take weeks for it to unfold. For now, he had left the Imperial City and traveled to the country side. He had brought Jenassa with him, this time giving her consent to him instead of being dragged out. He had left the rest of his group to their own will for the time being, seeing that this trip they were on was more of a personal matter that applied to him and his wife only.

A trip to the southern country side would take several days, and with the minimal packaging, the two would need to make a camp and rest. Fortunately, the two have gotten far enough that they were able to find a pond with a good terrain around it. Upon seeing this, Arminius was reminded of his childhood, where he would take a swim in one of those for hours a day.

"Oh by the nine, yes!" he yelled out in excitement. He quickly dismounted his horse.

"What is it?" Jenassa asked in wonder what Arminius was so hyped about. Arminius began a jog towards the water, stripping off pieces of his Legionnaire armor and leaving a trail on the way. "Arminius?" Once he was down to his nude, Arminius began a full sprint and did a backwards leap into the water. He went under for several seconds, leaving Jenassa to roll her eyes and sigh. She dismounted her horse and slowly followed his trail of stripped armor.

Upon reaching the edge, she crossed her arms and looked at Arminius who had just pulled his head out of the water. Past the dripping liquid going down his face, he looked up at her and smiled.

"I used to do this all the time as a kid," he said, holding himself at a level in the water through spreading strokes. She kept her hands on her hips, and raised a brow at his childish interest. He kept on smiling and motioned for her to join him, "Come on in!"

She pondered for a moment, and then remembered it was her handsome husband that was in the nude and he was asking her to join him. She took pleasure in that, and she grew a light smile on her face as she began to strip down as well.

When she was exposed, she held a feminine pose, fully bringing out her attractive curves that were otherwise ignored when armored. Arminius looked her over, noting her strong and shaped legs, her abdomen which was outlined in light muscle, her defined and prominent breasts, her luscious brown hair, and her exotic gray skin.

Upon seeing her nude, he grew an erection, which was blocked off by the water. He was now more excited for her to join, and he beckoned her more.

She eventually dipped herself in, taking in the cold of the water and letting it settle into warmth. She swam to him, dampening her hair and other features of her body along the way. She slid up against him, running her hands along his skin and feeling his muscular physique. He returned it, running his hands along her wet body, from her butt-cheeks, to her breasts.

They then engaged in a long kiss, switching side to side and their tongues getting into a wet fight. When she felt his massive erection poking at her thigh, she slid her hand down his abdomen, across his pelvis until she grasped onto the long shaft. She broke the kiss, moving around him until she pushed her breasts up to his back and her chin rested on his shoulder. He rubbed at her thighs, as she began to stroke his member at the tip. As she kept it up, she went on to more sensual actions like sucking on the nape of his neck, and using her fingers to tickle and play at his nipples.

At some point during her stimulation of him, she sucked on her two fingers, and used her saliva as a lubricant. She slid her index finger into his tight anal hole, drawing a surprised reaction from Arminius.

"Oh umm, Jenassa…" he breathed, as she smiled seductively. Her strokes of his cock had picked up, stimulating him even more, and she began to wiggle her finger inside his butt-hole, tickling at the sides. Arminius, feeling the delight of the unusual pleasure, began to moan uncontrollably.

Noting his obvious delight, she slid her finger deeper, going into his rectum and making him moan even louder now. She would even slide another finger, making two, or another making three, as she was so focused on his pleasure. The erotic actions of her fingers penetrating his anus and her stroking of his tip, eventually brought him to hold onto her thighs tightly and lean back on her as he experienced an orgasm.

The semen shot out of the slit and into the water, some even slid down onto Jenassa's hand.

Eventually, he would do the same for her; rub at her clit and slide his fingers into her anal hole until she would experience several squirting orgasms.

* * *

**Well there you go, another filler chapter with another horny scene to it. **


	15. Chapter 14

The masses were gathering at the arena, as a new battle was about to begin that day. The cheers and chants of the crowd that was already inside had created the atmosphere. Erik and Hadvar had decided to bring both Mjoll and Marcurio along just because there was really nothing else to do at that moment.

The lines were moving relatively slow, considering that the Imperial Guard were still maintaining protocol and checking people at the front entrance.

"What's this about, Erik?" Marcurio asked, speaking above the noise.

"It's an Arena battle," Erik answered, getting excited. Mjoll and Hadvar remained quiet, as the group made it past the entrance.

The layout of the stadium held a circular shape, with the rows of chairs orbiting around a dusty field that was separated by a stone wall that stood several feet high. The dusty field held several obstructions in it, a metallic circle in the middle, and four pillars encircling it.

The group was there a little late, so they were forced to sit in one of the top rows, getting a good look at the entire surrounding. Hadvar and Mjoll both slouched next to each other, crossing their arms while Marcurio sat there taking interest. Erik, however, was practically bouncing up and down in his seat, eagerly waiting for the fight to get started.

Mjoll leaned over to Hadvar and whispered to him, "What's Erik so jittery about?" Hadvar only shrugged, as he saw it was only just another gruesome fight that was about to take place. Suddenly, a projected voice of an announcer had spoken, drowning out the sound of the crowd.

"Good people of the Imperial City, welcome to the Arena!" It said. "Today, we have two of the Arena's toughest combatants: The Nord, Jeebi the Large vs. the Orc, Uzulac gro-Azorgrak!" From the way the announcer said it, it seemed like he had troubles in pronouncing Orc names.

From two opposite ends, the gates have lifted, and two warriors in full armor had walked out. There was the Nord man, Jeebi, had on red colored battle armor and was standing on the opposite end, raising his hands in the air to draw up the crowd. The other end was the Orc, who was in blue colored armor, seemed to look pretty blood-thirsty and focused on having the Nord's head on a silver platter.

"This is gonna be good!" Erik squeaked, shaking around.

"Let's not waste any time…let the battle begin!" the announcer yelled. In the moment, the Orc had gotten out a giant war axe, which he had groped with both of his hands; the Nord had equipped a long Steel war hammer and held it the same way, and they both dashed at each other.

"The Orc will win," Marcurio stated.

"Why's that?" Hadvar asked, Mjoll wondering the same thing.

"The war hammer is heavier, and it will only slow the Nord down when compared to that War Axe," Marcurio explained. Erik was too caught up in the moment to be listening and he watched as the two competitors were clashing. The Nord was swinging at him with all his might, but the Orc was able to dodge and block the attacks. Eventually after a couple of dodges right, the Orc used his axe to trip the Nord on his back, making him lose handle of the weapon.

The Orc wasted no time and stomped his foot down on the Nord's chest, and raised his axe above his head to finish him. The Nord raised his hand in the air as if to try and block him out of desperation, as the giant axe plummeted towards his head. The Axe broke clean through the Iron helmet, and split his face clean apart leaving shards of his skull and a giant splatter of blood and brain on the ground where his mutilated head now lay.

At that, the crowd had jumped up and roared, clearly entertained by the barbaric sport. Erik jumped up and cheered with them wildly, while Marcurio just sat there rubbing his chin in amusement. Hadvar had to look away, clearly taking no joy in seeing another person brutally murdered; same went with Mjoll.

When Erik sat down, he began to fantasize about what he could do in that Arena.

"I should really join this, and slay some warriors!" He enthused. Hadvar and Mjoll looked at him like he was crazy.

"Are you crazy?" Mjoll blurted out. "You would get massacred!"

"What? I have fought and slain dragons," Erik argued, trying to justify himself.

"That's mostly when you're with us," Mjoll argued back.

"Don't underestimate me, Mjoll. I can take care of myself just fine with a weapon," Erik said, and then he crossed his arms and pouted.

"I have no doubt that you can do that, Erik," Mjoll said.

"It's just, we came to Cyrodiil with Arminius to escape the danger of the Thalmor for a little while, not get ourselves killed in an Arena with thousands of people watching," Hadvar said. Erik sighed, annoyed, and slouched in his chair.

"Fine."

* * *

Delphine still wore her hooded robe, and she had walked around in it without drawing attention to herself for the past week. That's how good she got from hiding from the Thalmor for years straight. She was browsing through an outdoor market, stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables. She picked up several different things, and handed several septims to the Argonian shop keeper, who nodded and put the coins away in his pocket.

Delphine, with her bag of groceries, turned back and caught a glimpse through the crowd of walking people of a small Bosmer elf putting up a sign on a wall, then walking away. Delphine looked to each side, wondering if anybody else was doing the same, then she maneuvered through the busy street and to the other side where she could get a better look at it.

On it was a mediocre, yet accurate drawing of a familiar face.

_Arminius? _

She got closer to read the words underneath it.

_Arminius Constantine. This is the Dragonborn, the hero of Tamriel who saved us from the Dragons. Let him be the hero that this Empire deserves. Support the Dragonborn for the Dragon throne, and help return the Dragonblood lineage. _

_Support the Dragonborn for Emperor. _

The poster seemed to be putting emphasis on the word _Dragonborn. _It could work though, seeing that a Dragonborn is thought of as a hero, and who better to be an Emperor than a hero? Like Tiber Septim and his legacy. Shit, he even became a divine. So it's good to know that Arminius is going to get his support.

* * *

**I have something to ask you all. With Arminius and Jenassa constantly committing sexual actions towards one another, it's quite obvious their going to have a kid sometime. I want your input on it, what would you want him to be named? Leave it in a review. **

**Also, I am planning on writing two prequels to this story, which goes into detail about the war, the dragon crisis, and the team's history. **

**The first one will be called, **_**Dragonblood: War**_**. It will follow the events mostly of Arminius, told mostly in his narration. It will also cover up on stories coming from both sides of the war (I just want to make it fair, and appeal to them that both sides are still good people.) It will involve the POV of several soldiers, the legates, and rebels, General Tullius and Legate Rikke, Ulfric Stormcloak and Galmar Stone-Fist, General Scipio, Jenassa, Hadvar, and several more. It will even include fictional battles that I have included in my canon, (Battle of Blizzard Rest, Battle of Red Road Pass, Battle of Valtheim Tower, Siege of Whiterun, Battle of Cold Harbor, Scipio's Falkreath-Rift Campaign, Battle of the Treva River, and Siege of Windhelm.) **

**The next will be called, **_**Dragonblood: Crisis. **_**The story will go into detail about the Dragon Crisis, Constantine's training on High Hrothgar, him meeting the Blades, and putting together his team. **

**It seems to me that I have a lot planned ahead, and I want to write them while I write this story. So stay tuned, and try to share this story around. I'm actually quite disappointed in the lack of follows, favs and reviews when compared to the stats that I get for this story. **

**So I please implore you all to get more active with this story. Please? For me? **


	16. Chapter 15

The Dawn had peeked up on the horizon, and Arminius and Jenassa rode on through the country side. They passed several farms, ranging from animals to crops. At some point along the way, Arminius stopped and stared at one specific farm. Jenassa had waited for him to say something, but he was only staying silent.

"Arminius?" Jenassa spoke up, trying to get him to say something. After a couple of seconds more of staring, Arminius finally answered her.

"This is where I grew up." The farm-house was barely lit, but still looked as though it was in decent shape. The barn and horse stables themselves looked as though they have never been touched in ages. "I could've returned home after the war, but the Dragon Crisis prevented that. Now after eight years, I'm back."

Jenassa remained silent, but looked at the home as well. Arminius turned to her and outstretched a hand to her.

"Please," he said. "Would you come meet my family?" She thought for a moment, and as his wife, she took his hand in agreement.

"I will." They both got off their horses and walked through the fence gate. Going up the dirt path, then to the wooden door. Arminius was reluctant to knock, but he eventually did.

After waiting for about ten seconds, the door was slowly opened. On the other side, it revealed an old Nord woman with greying hair, and wrinkles around her face.

"Yes," she said in an old voice. Arminius immediately recognized her, and he smiled. The old woman was confused for a second, but then her face grew bright.

"Arminius!" She cried, reaching to hug him. "You're home; it's been so long!" They both engaged in the hug.

"Mother," Arminius replied, grunting from her tight squeeze. His mother stepped back and out her hands on his cheeks.

"Look at you," she said. "You're so much older than when we last seen you, and so much more handsome." Arminius chuckled, and took her by the shoulders.

"Where's father?" He asked. As if on cue, another old voice came from further inside the house, this time belonging to a white haired Imperial man.

"Who's at the door, Gretika?" the old man asked, approaching with a cane to support his right leg.

"Aulus, it's our son, Arminius!" Gretika replied, making way for the old Imperial man to see him. Arminius gave him a smile, and Aulus stared in shock.

"Father," Arminius said through his grin. His father dropped the cane and limped over to him. Arminius caught him and held him in a tight hug, then backing out and looking at each other.

"It has been a long time, son," Aulus said.

"It has been, father," Arminius replied. Gretika's eyes moved to the Dunmer girl that stood next to him.

"Arminius," she said. "Who's this?" Arminius glanced over at who she was referring to, and stepped next to her, interlacing fingers with her.

"Mother, Father," he said. "I would like you to meet my wife, Jenassa." The two were shocked.

"My son is married?" Gretika said to herself. "Aulus, this is better than we had hoped." Aulus shook hands with the Dark Elf.

"It's good to meet my step-daughter," Aulus said to her. "I hope Arminius has been good to you."

"He has, sir," Jenassa replied, politely, knowing she is meeting her father in law.

"Ah, good, good," Aulus said.

"Please, you two, come in, I have an apple pie waiting for us," Gretika said. Arminius licked his lips, and then hit Jenassa's shoulder, getting her attention.

"My mother's apple pie is brilliant, even you would love it."

After the meal, and their greetings, they all sat down in front of the fire place in the living room. Arminius and Jenassa were on a couch, sitting close together while Aulus and Gretika were in two separate chairs on the other side of the coffee table.

"So, Arminius," Aulus started. "I thought that the war lasted for only three years, why did you return eight years later."

"Well, father, it's a little hard to believe," Arminius said. "But I'm the Dragonborn." This caught the two elderly couple by surprise.

"The Dragonborn? Well that is hard to believe," Aulus said.

"And apparently, it was my destiny to stop the return of the Dragons," Arminius added.

"Oh my goodness," Gretika let out, a hand over her mouth. "Did that really happen to you?"

"It sure did, my wife can verify," He said, looking to Jenassa.

"I fought Dragons with him," she said, nodding.

"So is that how you two met?" Gretika asked.

"No," Arminius replied. "We met in the war. You see, I was a Legate, and she was a mercenary."

"Mercenary, eh?" Aulus said, and then whispered to himself. "He sure knows how to choose them."

"So, can you prove to us that you're the Dragonborn?" Gretika said, crossing her arms.

"I couldn't do that here, considering I could probably take down this whole house."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the way I prove myself to be the Dragonborn, I have to use a shout that I have learned," Arminius explained. "Now each one of these shouts comes from the Dragon language, and they each have a different meaning for different effects. For instance, fus roh da is unrelenting force and it pushes things away."

"Interesting," Aulus said, hand up on his wrinkly chin. "Perhaps you could show us later, outside."

"Possibly," Arminius said. "You see, I have to meet with the Elder Council by next week, so we'll have to be going by tomorrow morning."

"Elder Council?" Gretika questioned.

"Yeah, Elder Council," Arminius said. "Look, this also may be hard to believe, but I'm also a candidate for Emperor."

"Oh by the nine, Arminius!" Gretika coughed out in shock. "Are you really that important to everybody?"

"Well, I saved Nirn from the Dragons, and I fought in the Civil War," Arminius said, leaving out the part of where he was imprisoned in Cidhna mine for six months and escaping. "I'm also the first Dragonborn in ages, so they think that putting me in as Emperor would serve as a boost to the Empire's prestige."

"Well, if this is all true, then I say we should consider ourselves fortunate to have brought you in," Aulus said, referring to his adoption, and his taking of the Constantine family name.

"Yes, of course father," Arminius said. The room was silent for a moment, Arminius pondering about an earlier conversation with Hadvar. "Hey, do you know where I really came from?"

"What do you mean?" Gretika asked.

"I mean who my real parents were?"

"Well we can't say," Aulus answered. "I think that's about the fifth time you asked us, and each time we don't have an answer."

"It's because I turned out to be the Dragonborn," Arminius said. "You don't think that I was just granted it by Akatosh, do you?"

"Well like I said, I don't know if you're Dragonborn, or if you're just pulling my leg!"

"And becoming the Emperor seems also hard to believe," Gretika added.

"Well if you'd like, you two could come with us to see the next session with the Elder Council," Arminius said. "It's going to be an open one."

"I think we should go, Aulus," Gretika said, eager to see what her son had said was true. "It's been a while since we've been to the Imperial City."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Aulus replied to her. "We can go, but later, my leg is hurting at the moment."

"Well I didn't say right now."

Arminius, upon hearing about his father's leg pain, reminded him of painful work that he would do as a kid, and he brought up the barn because of it.

"Do you still work this farm? It seems that the stables and barn haven't been touched in ages," Arminius asked.

"Oh, no," Aulus replied. "I've gotten too old for that now." Gretika put her fists on her waist and glared at him.

"I told him to hire workers for us, be he said it would cost us too much," she said.

"Because it would!"

"So what do you do for income?" Arminius pressed on with the questions.

"We don't have an income," Gretika answered. "We basically already secured ourselves with our life savings, and now we don't need to work anymore. It would've been nice though if we still had workers."

"So you're in retirement now?"

"Basically, yes," Aulus said.

"I'll tell you what," Arminius said, adjusting his seat. "If I become the Emperor, then you two can live with me at the Imperial Palace." Gretika and Aulus looked at each other, trying to say words.

"Well…" Gretika drifted off. "We'll see about that." Aulus nodded.

"Okay," Arminius said. "I mean, you have time to think about it; it will be a while before the Elder Council can decide on an Emperor."

"Is there more than one candidate?" Gretika asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Arminius said. "It's an Imperial man named Varius Nero; kinda gives me the creeps."

"Ahh, Nero," Aulus said, recognizing him.

"Do you know him, father?"

"No, but I know of him. Rich business man takes advantage of the poor, all that kind of stuff."

"That's probably why most of the Elder Council is not in favor of him."

"They're just like him though, especially those High Elves who have no place in the Council."

"That probably explains why they're backing him so much." Aulus sat forward in his seat.

"Listen, son," Aulus started. "I'm telling you, he's bought out by the Thalmor, and if he wins for Emperor, we might as well kiss humanity's existence goodbye."

"Oh please, Aulus," Gretika said. "Leave the conspiracy banter for those Stormcloaks up in Skyrim. Speaking of which, what happened to them?"

"I think they left Skyrim, after Ulfric Stormcloak went down," Arminius said. "I think it was an island called Solstheim that they fled to."

After conversing a little more, Aulus looked over to the quiet Dark Elf wife of Arminius' and spoke up to her.

"What about you?" Aulus asked. "What's your story?"

"Well," Jenassa started. "I lived in Skyrim all my life because my great grandparents were forced out by the eruption of Red Mountain. I had combat training at a young age, and eventually I went on to lead a mercenary unit."

"So what're you good at?"

"Archery, mostly," Jenassa replied.

"She can shoot pretty fast, I've seen her," Arminius said, nodding.

"I also study Alchemy," she added.

"Alchemy, huh?" Aulus said. "Maybe you could brew me some Ale, or Wine." They chuckled, and Jenassa leaned over to Arminius.

"He sounds kind of like you."

* * *

The four friends of the Dragonborn were sleeping in their beds at the Tiber Septim Hotel. At some point, Erik had quietly slipped out from his bed and got on a set of casual clothing. As he silently stepped out of the room, Mjoll sat up and noticed him closing it. She made a quick and equally silent effort to get some casual wear on, and followed him out.

Going through the streets at midnight, Mjoll stalked him to see what he was up to. Going from corner to corner, she noticed which direction he was taking. Following him further, they came upon the sight of the Imperial city arena. Erik was making his way to one of the doors until Mjoll came up from behind him and grasped at his muscular arm.

"Hey!" Erik shouted, spinning around to see her.

"What do you think you're doing," Mjoll pressed, crossing her arms.

"Umm…well, I…" Erik stuttered. "I'm going to join the Arena!" he blurted out.

"Erik! What did I tell you?" Mjoll complained. "What would Arminius say about this?" Erik scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

"But…Mjoll, please," Erik begged. "Just give me the chance, please!" Mjoll glared at him for a few moments, then sighed an"Under d shook her head.

"Fine," she let out. Erik jumped in joy.

"Oh, thank you, thank you," Erik planted sloppy kisses on her cheeks, and she pushed him away to say something else.

"On one condition though," she added. Erik paused, looking at her in wonder.

"What's that?"

"That you let me join with you."

"Uhh, yeah," Erik replied, reclaiming his joyful mood. "Come on, we can do this together." He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him. "Just think, Me and my trusty longsword, you and Grimsever…"

He kept going on and on about them slaying all their opponents, and how they fought Dragons so no one can stand up to them.

* * *

**Please Read and Review **


	17. Chapter 16

In the free time that was given, Marcurio loved to go to the library at the Arcane University. He attended the University when he was younger, and so he was allowed access inside. Hadvar had also come along with him, and as long as he was with Marcurio, the University employees wouldn't be able to kick him out.

"I haven't seen this many books since we went to the College of Winterhold," Hadvar said, skimming through the book shelves. Marcurio decided to pick up a book that wasn't about the Dwemer, or Nord ruins, or even the Lusty Argonian Maid; he had gathered together several books on the history of the Empire.

"I think Arminius should come here and read up on past Emperors and their policies if he is going to be the Emperor," Marcurio said, opening up a book called _Champions of Cyrodiil_. The book was a rundown of all the men and mer that have been deemed Champions of Cyrodiil by High Chancellors in the past. Marcurio had opened up to a specific page that touched up on the very last Champion that was awarded the honor.

_The last Champion of Cyrodiil, Marcus Pollo, was granted the name in 3E 433-4E0 by High Chancellor Ocato. He is known for his support of Martin Septim in Tamriel's fight against the Daedric Prince Mehrunes Dagon. _

Going on, it went into full detail about his life; about how he was imprisoned, and his origins as a hunter. It eventually got so in depth that Marcurio came across a family tree diagram, starting from Pollo, to his current Ancestors of when the book was published.

_Marcus Pollo had two daughters, Claudia and Maren Pollo. _

He read on to the daughters having their children, and so on to the current generation. At some point, one of the great granddaughters of Marcus Pollo, Aurelia Nonus-Pollo, had married an Imperial officer by the name of Gaius Scipio. Gaius Scipio was a legate that died in the Great War. Before those events, Aurelia and Gaius had a child by the name of Cairus Scipio.

"Wait, what?" Hadvar blurted out, hearing Marcurio mumble his reading aloud.

"What is it?" Marcurio asked, looking up at him. Hadvar snatched the book away to look at it closely, reading the words carefully.

"Cairus Scipio?" Hadvar said, "You mean General Scipio of the fifth Legion?"

"Possibly," Marcurio shrugged. Hadvar had taken the book for himself and he was going through the library, trying to find any book on records of Imperial Commanders. Eventually, with how big the library was, he found one and opened it up to a page near the back.

"Let's see…Jonna…Tullius…Kaeso…Scipio," his finger landed on the General's name. "Cairus Scipio, fifth Legion High Commander, Imperial Officer's Academy graduate at the top of his class…no genealogy records other than his father's side of the family has a history of military service."

"Well, the book says his father died in the Great War," Marcurio said coming up behind him. "Maybe Arminius knows."

"Arminius is out visiting his parents with Jenassa right now," Hadvar said, flipping through a couple of other pages. "This book is huge; records every commander dating back to the start of the Legion."

"Seems to me like you have a new hobby as a historical detective," Marcurio said. "Something to pass the time I guess."

Hadvar actually never met Scipio; he knew of him because he became popular in the Legion for his Falkreath-Rift campaign, which some say is what ultimately decided the civil war. He does know that Arminius has met him, just recently in fact.

* * *

"So," A Redguard with nappy afro hair said. He was dressed in combat armor, and he had crossed his arms at the two Nords, Mjoll and Erik. "You two want to be combatants?" Mjoll let Erik do all the talking, since he was the one that was more excited.

"Yes, I want to slay some foe!" Erik said enthusiastically. The Redguard nodded, rather bored at hearing another young man try to get himself killed. He looked at the weapons they were carrying; a large steel longsword on Erik's back, and a glass sword that seemed to be emanating frost around it with Mjoll.

"You seem all ready to go, don't you?" He said, and then sighed. "What is it with you Nords? Constantly wanting to get yourselves killed for the fun of it."

"Hey!" Erik pointed a finger at his armored chest plate. "I'll have you know that me and Mjoll here slayed Dragons in Skyrim!"

"Did you now?" the Redguard said, sounding a little unconvinced.

"Yes, and we're also part of the Dragonborn's personal guard," Erik added.

"The Dragonborn, eh?" The Redguard said. "I heard that he came to the city, and I saw all the posters around. They say he is going to be the Emperor."

"You're damn right," Erik said, crossing his arms proudly.

"Don't mind him," Mjoll said to the Redguard. "Erik is kind of an idiot."

"Hey!" Erik said in retaliation as the Redguard laughed.

"Well okay," he said, turning around and reaching inside a chest. "I take it you two are heavy raiment types?" Mjoll nodded, Erik still glaring at her. Out of the chest, he pulled two folded up pieces of heavy blue armor and handed it to them. "You'll both be on the blue team, then. Maybe someone can finally put down that damn Orc, Uzulac." They all turned behind him to see the brute Orc punching at a mannequin, then losing all control and tearing it apart.

"I'm sure that Enchanted sword of yours could give you an edge," the Redguard said, and Mjoll turned back around to him, grasping at the handle.

"Oh, Grimsever?" she replied. "Probably."

* * *

"Fus Ro Dah!" Arminius shouted, and the forceful Aura came out from his mouth and shook the ground in front of him, kicking up dust. Him and his father, Aulus, were outside, having Arminius demonstrate the Thu'um for him. Aulus laughed and clapped.

"Brilliant, just brilliant!" He said, coming over to Arminius and putting a hand on his shoulder. "That's about the fourth one you've shown me?"

"Fifth, actually," Arminius replied, returning the smile.

"Oh yes, yes, I'm afraid my age is weighing down on me," Aulus said. "So, what other 'shouts' do you have?"

"Well," Arminius started, thinking on the shouts. "I could summon my Dragon."

"YOUR Dragon?" Aulus asked in shock. "You mean as in you have ownership of the Dragon?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that…" Arminius said. "You see, Odahviing said he goes his own way, but he has sworn loyalty to me."

"Oh your Dragon has a name now?"

"Uhh, yes, they all have names." Aulus laughed loudly, drawing attention from the two women inside the house as they were using the kitchen.

"Arminius is a lot like his father, isn't he?" Gretika said, wiping a plate with a cloth.

"It seems like it," Jenassa replied. "But if I remember correctly, he was adopted?" Gretika looked down into the tub of water and continued cleaning the dishes.

"Yes," Gretika replied. "It was an orphanage in Skingrad where we got him."

"Why did you adopt?" Gretika's face went grim.

"When Aulus and I were younger, we tried for a baby," Gretika started. "But I had miscarried…twice." Jenassa stopped stirring the pot for a second, feeling regret at asking the question.

"I'm sorry," she said in sympathy.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Gretika replied, going back to cleaning the dishes. "Besides, it led to our decision to adopt Arminius and we've never regretted it." Jenassa remained silent, and Gretika continued on. "He didn't have a name before we got him, officially at least. So the other kids would call him Stinky as a way to tease him."

Jenassa's mood lightened up at the story, and she chuckled slightly at the nickname.

* * *

**Read and Review, and don't forget to check out my prequel story _Dragonblood: War _**


	18. Chapter 17

Unknown to Arminius and his friends, views inside the Imperial city were changing. There were rallies of people who would come together and protest in support of the Dragonborn for Emperor. Along with the poster makers came the people who would actually stand on a street corner and yell out news and propaganda to the public. They had their eyes opened to the Dragonborn, and so they took advantage of their speaking skills to rally people together. Now, most of the Imperial City was calling for the Dragonborn to power, as they perceived the Dragon Throne to be his rightful place. So it seemed as though Amaund Motierre's plan was working for the most part.

Delphine and Esbern saw all of this, and decided that they would blend with the masses who would be visiting the Elder Council chambers when they were to have their first debate; the first open to public session since Titus Mede was assassinated. They still had their hoods over their heads when they took a seat in the back of the crowd, as the High Chancellor called for order.

"Order in the council!" He called out, and the room's chatter died down. "We are here for our first debate on the candidates for the Dragon Throne; Arminius Constantine and Varius Nero. The Council is now in session."

The High Chancellor sat back down in his prominently bigger seat than the rest. Amaund Motierre sat up and straightened his formal clothing out, ready to speak.

"High Chancellor, I would like to speak on the side for the Dragonborn," he said.

"You have the chambers, Councilor Motierre." Motierre began to walk slowly around the large circular table, past the other councilors and looking into the crowd as he began to speak.

"Arminius Constantine is an Imperial man, born and raised here in Cyrodiil. He was a Legate in the fourth Legion, and fought in the Skyrim Civil War. But he is no ordinary soldier; let us not forget who he really is and what he has done for all of Tamriel. He is the Dragonborn! The first in centuries! He has saved us all from obliteration, from Nirn being devoured by the Dragons! We all owe him our lives. Would you not call him a hero?"

The crowd was silently conversing with each other on the matter.

"Constantine is a hero, not only for the Empire, but for all of Nirn. Who better to have as an Emperor than a hero? A hero like Tiber Septim himself!"

The crowds chatter piped up, giving off agreements with him. High Chancellor banged a wooden hammer down, calling for order again. Motierre stayed silent for a moment, then getting his speaking skills back, he spoke up again.

"Therefore, I implore you, not just the Council, but you, the people, to understand Constantine's heroism as a true aspect of what this weakened Empire needs. It needs true leadership, an inspiring man to take the reins and drive us on to glory. It needs the inspiration that only one with the Dragonblood has." He went silent again, hearing the silence among the crowd as he looked to them.

"The Dragon Throne is the rightful place for a Dragonborn; The Dragonborn belongs as our figurehead on the throne. As glorious as the Septim Dynasty was, we should bring the return of our true roots." He turned to High Chancellor Malvolan. "That is all."

The crowd cheered and gave applause, clearly motivated by Motierre's speech skills. When it died down, Malvolan spoke up.

"Thank you, Councilor Motierre," he said, as the Councilor sat back down in his seat.

"Good job," Jeanyn whispered to Amaund.

"Thank you, I prepared all night for that speech." The male High Elf Councilor stood up.

"I would like to speak on the side of Varius Nero," Mearanil declared.

"You now have the chambers, Councilor Faebinder." Like Motierre, Mearanil slowly paced through the room.

"Varius Nero is an Imperial man from the nobility, and has the experience needed to be able to effectively pull the strings of this Empire. For decades he has studied at the Arcane University in the Empire's political theory, and it's history." The High Elf stopped, and looked to Motierre. "What would Candidate Constantine know of the Empire's political theory?" He remained silent, only glaring at him. "To add on, he may be the Dragonborn, but do we really have the evidence to prove that he saved Nirn from 'Dragons?'"

Motierre looked to the side, keeping a straight face as he began thinking of comebacks.

"We have all of Skyrim to vouch for him," the Nord councilor, Vilkne Alaldson, shouted out of nowhere.

"Councilor Vilkne, Councilor Faebinder has the chambers," Malvolan said, leaving the room in whispers. He banged the hammer down again, "Order." The High Elf glared at the Nord, who returned the look, and went back to speaking.

"In addition, does Candidate Constantine have the experience necessary to be a leader, other than being a Legate in the Legion?" Silence filled the room. "Nero is well read, and well raised. I personally look up to him as our leader." The High Elf sat back down.

"Thank you, Councilor Faebinder," Malvolan said. The Female Imperial Councilor, Moria Galenus, stood up.

"I would like to speak on the side of Candidate Constantine in response to Councilor Faebinder," she said.

"You have the chambers, Councilor Galenus," Malvolan replied, slouching in his chair.

"Councilor Faebinder, I see that you are right; we don't have the evidence to prove that Candidate Constantine has saved us; unless we have High Profile subjects to provide testimony for him, and who have been there."

Hearing that, Motierre just got an idea on how to fight Faebinder and Laemorin. They needed some people who have legitimately seen him save Tamriel. The Council agreed to Galenus' idea of several High Profile people to give testimony during the second meeting, when the candidates are there to represent themselves.

* * *

After the Elder Council was called out of session, Motierre had arranged to meet up with an Imperial envoy unit outside of the city.

"Here," Motierre said, handing a scroll to the Tribune. "Take this message and make sure it gets delivered to High King Balgruuf of Skyrim. Waste no time."

The Tribune chest saluted, and mounted his horse with the two Auxiliaries beside him and rode off.

* * *

Secretly, the two High Elf councilors met up with Varius Nero somewhere north of the Imperial city later that night. They had a torch with them, and from the darkness came another High Elf, an old female this time, along with several Thalmor Justiciars beside her. The Councilors bowed to her.

"Ambassador Elenwen," Faebinder said.

"Councilors," She replied.

"Councilor Motierre is sending an envoy unit to try and convince the High King of Skyrim to testify for the Dragonborn." Laemorin said. Elenwen nodded, understanding the situation.

"Then I'll see to it that they don't reach him," Elenwen said, lifting up her hand and snapping her fingers. The two Justiciars with her turned and walked away into the darkness. She looked down at the much shorter Nero who had remained silent like a drone.

"I'll make sure that your next payment is transferred," She said; Nero nodded silently. Also from the darkness, another Imperial came, this time he was dressed in Imperial general's armor and held a snobbish face on him. "In the event that the debate doesn't work, then we have a second plan." She said.

If it's war between the Dominion and the Empire, then we'll be ready," Faebinder said.

"The Dominion not quite," Elenwen replied. "We currently only provide funds for this scheme secretly. We want to keep the Empire as weak as possible." She turned to the Imperial General that came beside her and stroked at his chin. "With the right coin, General Opiter Kaeso of the Second Legion has pledged his obedience to me," She ran a thumb across his cheek. "Isn't that right, Opiter?"

"Yes, my master," he replied, almost like another drone.

"Ambassador, do you mean a civil war in Cyrodiil?" Laemorin asked, and Elenwen turned to her.

"Yes, Nirmanwe, the more internal conflict that we can ignite, the weaker the Empire becomes," She looked towards the north, and at the same time ran her hands across Kaeso's shoulder plates. "We already failed the first time when the Civil War in Skyrim was won for the Empire. Were the Stormcloaks to have won that war, then it would've been possible for the Empire to fall apart. I hadn't wished for either side to conquer, rather they kept the war going for the next ten years; until that General Scipio came along." She turned back to them. "But humans are always repeat offenders, and they never learn from their mistakes or see through the thick curtain of conspiracy. They will be quick to fall into another war, as long as Opiter obeys my command." She glared at the shorter General.

"Yes, my master…" he repeated. She stroked his chin again and smiled.

"Good boy."

"What about the fugitives that the Dragonborn have brought along with him?" Faebinder mentioned.

"Leave them, so we can continue this game we are playing."

"But didn't they kill three Justiciars?"

"Dominion wealth can replace them easily," she replied and then turned back to them. "Now go, fulfill your duty." Then she turned back. The two councilors moved away, and the light that was shining on her had faded, cloaking her in the darkness.

* * *

**So Elenwen has returned, and boy do I have a future ahead for her. I have to say that I like the direction this is going; all of the espionage, corruption and conspiracy within Dominion and Imperial governments. **

**What do you think of it? Am I going too far with the corruption? Am I making Elenwen seem too much like a Femme Fatale? **

**Read and Review and don't forgot to favorite or subscribe to this story. Also check out my prequel **_**Dragonblood: War. **_**It has three chapters up. **


	19. Chapter 18

After the envoy unit had made it passed the border through the Pale Pass, they found themselves galloping through the thick evergreen forest of Falkreath, Skyrim. One point along the way, the sounds of nature seemed to have died out, rather just the sound of the wind rustling the branches now. The three had slowed down, going at a slow and steady pace.

Suddenly the Tribune heard the whistle of a fast moving object, then a thud on the ground to his right and a horse whinny. He stopped and turned his horse to see that the horse beside him was missing of its rider, and its rider had just fallen to the ground with an arrow sticking out of his neck.

The other Auxiliary's horse had whinnied and kicked itself up onto its hind legs in time to take another arrow through its neck, barely missing the Auxiliary. The horse cried and fell to the ground dead, trapping the Auxiliary's leg underneath its abdomen. He used what little strength he had and tried to push the dead horse off of him, as the Tribune was now in a panic.

"Go!" The Auxiliary yelled. "Go!" The Tribune wasted no time and kicked his horse into a sprint.

When the Auxiliary was able to free himself, he stood drawing his sword, but dropping it as another yellow one had pierced out of his chest from his back. He yelled out in shock, and died instantly. The attacker turned to see the figure of the fleeing Tribune on his horse, and immediately another attacker, this time an archer came up beside him and aimed his bow.

Letting go, the arrow whistled over to the Tribune and hit him in the shoulder; an incredible display of accuracy. The Tribune fell forward into the horse's mane, but he didn't fall off of it as the horse carried him off down a slope and disappearing from the attackers' sight.

The two attackers were the Thalmor Justiciars, the ones that were with Elenwen several nights ago.

"He should fall dead any minute now," The Archer High Elf said.

Unfortunately for them, the Heavy Armor that the Tribune was wearing provided a little more protection from damage. Therefore the arrow was stopped from passing clean through him but stuck halfway inside his shoulder. He was still alive, but disoriented and losing consciousness on his way to the nearest town.

* * *

The guards in the town of Falkreath were on their usual patrols. One of them was stationed on the arc way above the gate had seen the horse from the distance and the Legionnaire with the arrow sticking out of his back.

"We have an injured!" He called out to the other guards, as he the others scrambled to get to the front gate in time to meet the galloping horse. Three guards had stopped the horse, and another two had caught the wounded Legionnaire when he slipped out of the saddle, his head hanging to the side.

"He's still breathing," One of them said. The Legionnaire opened his eyes and squinted up at the guard. "You've been hit with an arrow; we're getting you a healer."

The Legionnaire shakily reached into the saddlebag that was hanging next to his waist and pulled out a scroll and pushed it against the Nord guard's chest.

"Make sure…this gets…to the High King," he said, his breathing labored. The guard reluctantly took it, and helped carry him down to a healer.

* * *

Only two days later and the same guard along with two others had made their way to Solitude. They told the guards there that they carried a message for the High King and needed to deliver it to the Blue Palace immediately. The Guards of Solitude consented and let them through.

When they were in the Blue palace, they walked up the spiral steps to confront the High King Balgruuf who was slouching in his throne.

"My King," they greeted, bowing to him. Balgruuf sat up, looking at them and waiting for what they had to say. "We come from Falkreath, a Legionnaire came with this message and said it was supposed to go to you."

"Then where is that Legionnaire?" Balgruuf asked.

"He's resting with a healer," The Nord guard said. "He was hit in the shoulder with an elven arrow." Balgruuf sat forward, looking at them in surprise.

"Let me see it," He said, outstretching his arm. His dunmer housecarl, Irileth, had taken the scroll from the Nord guard and handed it to Balgruuf, who had unrolled it and silently read down it.

_To High King Balgruuf the Greater_

_Arminius Constantine's campaign for the Dragon Throne is at a critical point. The Elder Council has asked for your presence to give testimony for the Dragonborn. I hope you can heed this call and come to Cyrodiil as quickly as you can to represent him. _

_Sincerely, Councilor Amaund Motierre. _

Balgruuf laid the scroll on his lap.

"The Elder Council asks for my presence," he said. Both his housecarl, Irileth and his Steward, Proventus Avenicci, took note of this.

"What do they need you for?" Irileth asked.

"The Dragonborn is currently in debate, and they want me to give testimony for him," Balgruuf sat back again and began to think on the issue, like he usually does when performing High King duties.

"So what are you planning on doing?" Proventus asked, ironic that he's usually the one answering these questions. Balgruuf scratched at his beard, thinking some more, and then stood up.

"I'm going to do exactly that," Balgruuf looked down to Proventus. "I trust that you can handle things here in my absence."

"Of course, my King," Proventus replied, nodding. Balgruuf turned toward his housecarl.

"I also expect you to come with me," he said.

"I will," She nodded, gripping the handle of her sheathed sword. He stepped down to the three guards.

"I should reward you three for taking the initiative to deliver this letter," he said. "One thousand gold for the each of you." The three guards were excited, and looked at each other with smiles on their faces. "I also expect to speak to that Legionnaire that was wounded after I return."

"Yes my king," The guards said. Balgruuf made his way to the more private areas of the Blue Palace, where his Brother, Hrongar; and his three children, Frothar, Dagny, and Nelkir, were presiding.

"Father?" Nelkir asked, wondering what he was there for.

"Come here, all of you," he said, kneeling down to get to their eye level. The three came up to him, and he put his hands on Frothar and Nelkir's shoulders. "I'm going to be going away for a little while, you be good for me."

"What's happening, father?" Dagny asked.

"I'm going to go see the Dragonborn," Balgruuf replied.

"The Dragonborn?!" They all said, enthusiastically.

"Yes, but you are all staying here with your Uncle Hrongar and Proventus," He said. Dagny pouted, and Balgruuf patted the top of her head.

"I'll be back."

* * *

**As by this, you probably know that Balgruuf is my favorite Jarl, and I highly support him being the High King after the Civil War. I'm glad that I'm putting a bigger role in here for him. **

**Anyways Read and Review. **


	20. Chapter 19

"Good people of the Imperial City, welcome to the Arena!" The announcer said, and the crowd's cheers drew up. Erik and Mjoll stood in their full blue armor just behind the gate. "Today we have teams of new combatants! Let's begin!" The gates dropped, Erik and Mjoll head equipped their weapons and poured out into the sand pit.

As they advanced, they saw two other figures from the yellow team move in on them. One of them was a Nord girl with a two handed sword and she was heading straight for Erik. The other was an Argonian with a shield and war axe, going for Mjoll.

The two broke off from each other, spreading out. Mjoll held her shield up as the Argonian attempted a strike. The axe hit her shield, then again and again. Eventually, Mjoll sprang into action and bashed him back, revealing a small interval for her to strike. She swung Grimsever, and the Argonian was barely able to block with his shield; the enchanted sword leaving an icy mark on it. The Argonian swung back, Mjoll blocking, then she swung back, the Argonian blocking.

Eventually, Mjoll's tactic changed, swinging to his neck where he was to block the strike, and then bashing her shield up in his scaly face, knocking him backwards. Wasting no time, she stepped beside him and knelt over to slice at the hamstring in his leg, the cut leaving frozen blood on it. He fell over, turned on his stomach and attempted to crawl away with his frozen leg wound. She made her way to him, stepping on his back and driving Grimsever through his back, permanently freezing his chest area as he died.

Now the crowd was wild, seeing the thrill of an Argonian falling to an enchanted sword and its effects. She attempted to pull the glass sword out, the sword getting stuck in there from the freezing, but with one hard pull she was able to pull it out with whatever green blood that was not frozen squirting on her leg.

Mjoll regained her focus and looked over at the clashing steel of Erik and the other Nord girl fighting. They had crossed their Longswords, a fight of might as Erik and her glared ferociously into each other's eyes. Eventually, Erik forced her back with a kick from his foot, then swinging at her weapon. The longsword flew from her grip, landing somewhere off to the side.

She turned back, putting her hands up to try and stop him from thrusting his sword through her chest.

"No, Please!" She begged, and then the sword had shanked through her. Erik used his might to lift her impaled body up over him, the girl making a disgusting choking sound as blood rushed from her mouth. He threw her now lifeless body down onto the sand, pulling his sword out and leaving it covered in blood.

The crowd was even wilder for him, and he raised his sword up in triumph, holding a proud expression and cheering with them.

"We have our winners!" The announcer shouted. "Mjoll the Lioness and Erik the Slayer of the blue team!"

Mjoll watched Erik celebrate at him kill, thinking back to the girl begging him to spare her and how he ended her anyway. If she was still the same Mjoll from years ago, she would've been celebrating as well, but she had matured and she didn't enjoy death very much.

* * *

Arminius, his wife, and his parents all made it back to the Imperial city on a carriage. Arminius explained to the guards at the gate who he was, and they let him through. As they entered the busy urban environment of the city, his mother was taken aback by it.

"Oh it's been so long since we've been here, Aulus," Gretika said, clapping her hands together. Aulus scoffed.

"I prefer Skingrad anyway," He said. Arminius lefted himself up to him from the back of the carriage.

"Jenassa and I will get off here," Arminius handed them a sack of coins. "Here, to give you guys an inn to stay at." His dad waved him off laughing.

"Oh Arminius, no…"

"No, no, I insist," he said, pushing the purse into his hands. "Besides it isn't even my money, so best we make use of it."

His parents went off, and Arminius and Jenassa took to the streets.

"So what are we going to do now?" Arminius asked.

"Well," Jenassa replied. "We should go to the library; you can read up on anything you can on being an Emperor, and I can read up on anything I can on being the Emperor's wife."

"Oh you," he chuckled. "But it does sound like a good plan."

* * *

They made it to the Arcane University library and saw Hadvar and Marcurio at the tables, reading through stacks of books. Marcurio had his feet up on the table and slouched back in the chair; Hadvar had his back arched and he was looking closely into a giant book.

"Hey guys," Arminius said. "I didn't expect you here."

"What are you kidding?" Marcurio said rhetorically. Hadvar, taking out a larger book, stood up and walked to Arminius.

"Arminius, we may be onto something," he said, opening up to a page with a diagram and pointing at it. Arminius, not really observing the diagram, held a face of confusion and shook his head.

"What is it?" Arminius said.

"It's a family tree," Hadvar answered. "You should know of the last Champion of Cyrodiil?"

"Yeah," Arminius nodded. "Marcus Pollo; we learned about him in public school." Hadvar pointed at his name of the top of the diagram.

"See here he is…" then he started going down one side of the family, Arminius' eyes following.

_Claudia Pollo, Aurelia Nonus Pollo and Gaius Scipio…Cairus Scipio? _Hadvar's finger stopped at the name Cairus Scipio.

"Look at that," he said. Arminius looked at it closer, taking the book in his hands.

"Cairus Scipio? General Scipio?" Arminius questioned.

"That's what I said when I noticed it," Hadvar said.

"So, you're saying that there's a possibility of General Scipio of the fifth legion being one of the great grandsons of the Champion of Cyrodiil?" Marcurio came in.

"Not really a possibility," he said, as he carried an even larger book over. "This book keeps record of all Imperial commanders dating back to the start of the legion; including family relations. It says here under Cairus Scipio's profile that his father was in-fact Gaius Scipio, who was a Legate that died in the Great War. That much of the book was proven by another source that that part is true."

"So for now, we're just assuming based on that slender evidence that it is General Scipio who's related to the last Champion of Cyrodiil," Hadvar added. Arminius scratched his chin.

"Huh, that's interesting; I guess I should ask him the next time I see him."

* * *

**Another Filler chapter, this time we see Mjoll and Erik for the first time in the Arena. I also have a lot of great concepts for the future, especially with the Penitus Ocalatus. **


	21. Chapter 20

"That's interesting," Jenassa said a book up to her face. Arminius kept on reading his.

"What is it?"

"There was a Dark Elf who was an Empress at one point," she said. Arminius then put his book down.

"You mean Katariah?" He asked. "She's actually my favorite of all the Emperors in the third Empire. The people loved her more than the nobility did." After that, Jenassa stayed silent. Arminius had set his book to the side and looked one way. He saw a book that was titled, _The 'Madmen' of the Reach._

He remembered reading that book once; it was by Arrianus Arius when he set out to study the Reachmen. It revealed their true intentions and why they did what they did. He remembered back to the day when he was imprisoned in Cidhna mine, and how he had heard each other's stories and why they are Forsworn.

Even when on the verge of becoming the Emperor, knowing King Madanach and fighting dragons, Arminius was still very much afraid of the Forsworn. He knew at some point, there was something he needed to do with them.

* * *

Erik just walked back into the training rooms from another fight, where Mjoll was waiting for him on a bench.

"Had enough?" She asked.

"For now," Erik replied. "But right now, I need some gold." Mjoll followed him and rested up against the door frame, arms crossed as she watched him to talk to the Redguard; Jonro was his name.

"By the eight, you're turning out to be better than I thought," He took out a coin purse. "Here, to pay off this week." Erik had a sluggish smile when he jiggled around the coin sack, and turned around. He headed back in Mjoll's direction until the giant brute orc, Lashn, stepped in his way.

There was an awkward silence, the Orc looking down at Erik with a glare while Erik looked back at him with a blank expression, completely unfazed by the intimidation.

"Can I help you?" He asked. The Orc lifted his hand and poked at his chest with a meaty finger.

"Don't think you're better than me because you're winning some cutesy little matches," The Orc growled. Erik shrugged.

"I never said I was better than you," He raised a brow. "In fact I didn't say anything at all…"

"SHUT UP," The Orc yelled. "You'll be crying home to daddy when I beat you in next week's match." When Lashn mentioned his dad, Erik put his hands on his waist.

"Well gods forbid I go back THERE again," He said. The Orc growled and looked like he was about to pummel Erik, but Jonro stepped in.

"Take it easy, Lashn," he said. "You'll get your chance at him next week." Lashn grunted and went back to beating up the dummy. Jonro turned back to Erik and sighed. "I hope you're as good next week as you are good now, I need that damn Orc out of my life, he's a pain in the ass."

"I'll make sure of it," Erik said then walking away toward Mjoll.

"You know, Arminius expects us to be with him at the next Elder Council session," She said, getting up from the door frame and walking with him.

"Oh really? When is that?"

"Next week."

"Next Week!?" Erik bursted. "You mean when I fight Lashn!?"

"You best make it quick."

* * *

_1 week later_

Tullius was kind enough to lend Balgruuf an escort unit under Legate Adventus Caesennius. After their week of travel on horseback, they found themselves at the gates of the Imperial City where they were let in. Upon making their remarks about how glorious the city looked in person, Balgruuf went on with Irileth to the Elder Council chambers.

They were let in when they notified the Imperial guard of who they were, along with consent of Legate Caesennius.

The High Chancellor, Garrett Malvolan, was in the chambers alone when the guards came up to him along with the Nordic King and his Dunmer housecarl.

"High Chancellor," The guard greeted, saluting. Malvolan gave him his attention. "Presenting High King Balgruuf the Greater of Skyrim."

"High King Balgruuf," Malvolan said. He extended his arm, Balgruuf taking it in a shake. "It's good to have you here."

"I'm honored to be here, High Chancellor," Balgruuf replied, and then his face turned grim. "But I'm afraid I have some bitter news."

"Go on, what is it?"

"The emissary unit that you sent me never made it, a couple of Falkreath guards had to finish the delivery," he said. Malvolan's old eyes widened. "The one Legionnaire that made it to Falkreath had an Elven arrow stuck in his back."

"Could it be bandits?"

"I don't know, but I want to be able to find out why."

"We can find out later, but for now we need to call a session now that you're here."

* * *

Upon hearing about what happened to the emissary unit, the Penitus Ocalatus jumped in to investigate. Commander Cassius Maro had come to Falkreath to speak with the surviving Tribune. He lay on the bed, wrapping around his shoulder and arm. He adjusted himself, wincing at the pain in his shoulder, and looked up to Maro.

"Tribune Tacito?" Maro greeted. "I'm Commander Cassius Maro of the Penitus Ocalatus; I'm here to ask you some questions about your incident in Falkreath."

"Okay," Tacito nodded, his voice weak. Maro pulled up a chair and sat next to his bed.

"You showed up to Falkreath with an arrow in your back, and two Legionnaires have been reported MIA; care to tell me what happened?" Maro asked.

"Well," Tacito started. "We were ordered by Councilor Motierre to send a message to the High King for him to go to Cyrodiil. We were part way in Falkreath's Evergreen forest when we were ambushed. I saw the Auxiliary next to me get an arrow through his neck, and my other Auxiliary tried to buy me some time to escape…I don't think he made it."

"Did you see who attacked you? Stormcloaks maybe?" Maro went on.

"No, I doubt it; I fought Stormcloaks when I was a Praefect in the Civil War, they wouldn't dare use anything Elven. Besides, most of them left for Solstheim."

"I see," Maro said, rubbing his chin. "Where exactly did you get ambushed?" Tacito sighed, shaking his head.

"I don't know…it was on the main road going into Falkreath from the Pale Pass," Tacito said.

"We'll send a search party to look for the bodies," Maro said, getting up from his chair. "Thanks for your time."

* * *

Commander Maro found himself on the very same road that the wounded Tribune Tacito was talking about. Only several hours into searching and they already found the decomposing bodies. He approached the scene on his horse, where it was blocked off by several agents and their colorful ovular shields. He dismounted and walked through them, getting nods and salutes from the ones guarding it. His son, Gaius, along with a couple of other agents were watching over the bodies that were in a ditch.

"Gaius, what do we have here?" Maro asked. Gaius turned to answer him.

"Father, we found the two Auxiliaries here in the ditch," he said. "Looks like they have been here for a week." Maro took a whiff of the awful stench and waved his hand in front of his face. He coughed it off and went down into the ditch to take a better look at them.

"An Elven arrow through this one's neck," he said, then looking to the other one. He observed closely past the decomposition and made out an opening in his chest. "And a sword stab wound right through the chest here." He pointed to it, making out the hole to Gaius. "A very well placed stab, honestly."

"Father, do you think that Bandits may have done this?" Gaius asked. Maro shook his head.

"No, how many times do we see Bandits brave enough to go against well trained Legionnaires, they usually only go after the defenseless," Maro said, getting back up out of the ditch. "Of course they could be changing their tactics to just randomly deciding to kill Legionnaires." Maro pointed to all the equipment that was still on them, along with their swords, shields, knap sacks and other necessities. "See, even when dead all the stuff that they carried with them is still here; it's not like bandits to just leave things on their victims."

"So who do you think could've done this?"

"Really well trained killers, that much I can say," Maro replied, looking off into the air.

"The Dark Brotherhood?" Gaius insisted.

"It's a possibility," Maro said. "First the Dark Brotherhood is able to kill Titus Mede, and the next Imperials that died are Legionnaires carrying a message to the High King of Skyrim asking him to vouch for the new Candidate. But even if it is the Dark Brotherhood, it would only prove that it isn't the same assassin twice, which would be even harder to track. The arrows used to kill the sailors aboard the Emperor's flag ship were ebony, not Elven." Maro again looked back down to the Auxiliary that had the arrow stuck in his neck. "Plus, the Ebony arrows recovered on the ship were coated in poison, and looking here it doesn't seem to have poisonous elements on the arrow at all." He looked back up to his son. "There was also poison on the arrow with Vittoria Vicci murder; so it's pretty standard for Assassins to coat their arrows in advance."

* * *

**I have some special things planned with Jenassa and the Penitus Ocalatus when Arminius goes through some reforms (when and if he becomes Emperor of course.) **

**Read and Review**


	22. Chapter 21

**I have to say sorry to Pokemark17, but the Council stuff is going to drag on for this chapter, and that'll be the end of it. I will have one more Council chapter, but it won't actually be them talking, instead a surprise will come, so bear with me here.**

* * *

This was the day that held the very main session to debate the issue on who takes the Dragon Throne. The news spread across the city, and many people have cleared the streets to come to the Elder Council chambers and witness the event. There were so many visitors that it took up nearly 1/4th of the city populace, and there weren't enough seats for people to sit in, so some of them were forced to stand up.

Marcurio, Hadvar, Mjoll, and Erik had all showed up and they were sitting in the front row. His parents, Aulus and Gretika, were somewhere in the middle section. Even Delphine and Esbern had shown up and were presiding somewhere in the dark corners of the back.

Arminius stood in a back room somewhere away from the main chambers with his wife Jenassa. She was fixing up his fancy clothes and straightening them out. Arminius was hot with nervousness.

"That's a lot of people out there," he said. Jenassa laid a hand on his cheek.

"It's nothing to worry about, love," she said. "You should see these people, they all support you."

"Do they, really?"

"Of course; our friends and your parents are out there as well," she said. He nodded his head and sighed.

"Good, I need the support," She gave him a long kiss before patting his cheek and heading back out into the chambers to sit with the group.

Arminius was pacing back and forth getting ready for these shenanigans to start, until he heard a voice carrying a heavy Nordic accent.

"Dragonborn," it said. Arminius turned to see the familiar face of the blonde man in the crown.

"Balgruuf!" Arminius said enthusiastically. "I'm glad to see you here."

"As I am for you," he replied, shaking Arminius' hand. "I hope today goes well."

* * *

The session started, all the councilors from the representative races taking their seats. Arminius sat next to Amaund Motierre, and to his right was Balgruuf. Of course, Nero was next to Faebinder and Laemorin. High Chancellor Garrett Malvolan had piped down the crowd and they began their debate.

In this kind of turmoil, Motierre was constantly the one standing and speaking. He patted down a group of papers then stood up, ready to ask Balgruuf the questions. It was fishy though, him asking the questions; it could hint to a lot of bias with the type of questions he could ask. It would've made more sense for a councilor of the opposition to question Balgruuf, or even the High Chancellor.

"May I ask that Candidate Constantine and High King Balgruuf rise from their seat," He said. Both Arminius and Balgruuf rose in unison. Motierre walked back and forth behind them. "Candidate Constantine, give us a summary of who you are."

Arminius didn't have very much trouble with what he was to say, since he had studied for the past couple of days.

"I am Arminius Constantine, adopted son of Aulus and Gretika Constantine, Legate of the Fourth Legion, the Dragonborn of Tamriel, and a true son of the Empire," he explained. He was all those things, mostly considered those things actually. The 'true son of the Empire' was something he added to try and incite nationalism and inspiration to the crowd.

Of course, the title wasn't actually something he came up with himself. Back during the Civil War, after Legate Constantine had just found out that he was a Dragonborn and the first in ages in front of the unit he was leading, the news had spread. The Dragonborn was something iconic to the image of the Empire, and his fellow soldiers looked to him as the prophesized hero to lead them into combat and bring glory back to the legion. Their willingness to stand by him and fight with him unlike anyone else was truly moving and is what helped lead to their victory at Cold Harbor, when Arminius led several Cohorts on a major beach assault next to Dawnstar.

After they had taken the beach head and swept down on the Stormcloak right flank where they were desperately trying to hold off forces marching from Morthal, the men celebrated the victory in his name. They picked him up and carried him on their shoulders, and chanted his name Constantine, and would cheer on about their new term for him: "The True Son of the Empire". It served as an inspiration for Legionnaire's that there is still hope left in the crumbling Empire; so the term was actually a very big deal for the legion.

"Are you the Dragonborn that has saved us from the Dragons?" Motierre pressed on.

"Yes I am," Arminius replied. Motierre turned his attention to Balgruuf.

"High King Balgruuf the Greater of Skyrim," he said. "What do you have to share with us today about candidate Constantine?"

"I have a story to share with the Council and the people of Cyrodiil, about the Dragonborn," Balgruuf replied. Motierre nodded, and sat down.

"If it's a story, then you may sit and get comfortable and we'll listen," he said. Both Arminius and Balgruuf sat down together.

"I met Arminius when I was still a Jarl; he came seeking help for a village that was threatened by the Dragons. He told me that he was overseeing an assignment at Helgen when a dragon came and tore it down. Weeks later we received news about one of my watchtowers under attack, and I asked him and several other Legionnaires to accompany my guards to the watchtower. When they came back, his men were spreading around word that Arminius had involuntarily devoured the Dragons soul, and that he had just shouted an energy force from his mouth. When the Stormcloaks tried to seize Whiterun, I witnessed him use the voice power, and after the battle the Greybeards had called to him. I knew at this point that he was the Dragonborn, and his other Legionnaire's had come to recognize him as that. For a while he had disappeared, and returned only to ask me a shocking question. He wanted me to trap a Dragon inside Dragonsreach. I thought it was insane at first, but I've come to trust him, and we were successful in that matter. After holding the Dragon in captivity for about a week, Arminius decided to let it go, and he rode the Dragon off to save Tamriel," Balgruuf said. The crowd's chatter was silent; believing the first part but finding the second part a little difficult to believe.

"So he was the one who saved Nirn, am I right?" Motierre asked. Balgruuf nodded; Motierre looking over to Councilor Faebinder and Laemorin, who were glaring at him.

"Thank you, High King," Motierre said. The High elf councilor stood and began his section on Nero. While he was talking, Arminius glanced over into the crowd, finding the faces of his friends in the front row. He went on and found his parents further back, and then he turned more to find General Scipio and his one eye with a lazy form, eating a green apple.

"…so who else would speak for Constantine? Other than a story by the High King?" He heard the Altmer say. "Constantine?" Arminius snapped back to see The High Elf councilors looking at him, along with the rest of the council. Arminius was stuttering, not sure of who to think.

"Well…" He looked to Motierre, who was shuffling through his papers rapidly. Motierre suddenly stopped and just looked down at his paper, obviously in defeat. A few more moments of silence before a female voice broke it.

"I'll speak for him," they turned to see the Dark Elf rise from her seat. Some people were conversing, wondering who she was.

"And who are you?" The High Chancellor asked.

"I am Jenassa, a Dark Elf of Skyrim," she said.

"What's you affiliation with Candidate Constantine?"

"I am his wife," immediately then, people went into argument about her with each other. Motierre knew that the public knowing of her would incite controversy, since her kind wasn't necessarily respected or even a part of the Empire anymore. An Emperor being married to someone from a region out of their influence could serve as either great for diplomacy or a real problem politically and socially.

Motierre hid his face behind his hand; Arminius noticing him and the crowd's reaction made him nervous, and he gulped.

"Come up and speak then," Chancellor Malvolan said. Jenassa complied and approached the circular table. "Speak of your story with him."

"Arminius and I met at the Siege of Whiterun. We were to hold the front entrance against an overwhelming enemy attack. He used his voice to shout them down, and it helped break their morale. He told me of what he was, and his men seemed to rally behind him and rely on him a great deal. We became friends after that, and met again at Dawnstar. After we had won the battle, Arminius' fellow soldiers held him high and chanted his name. Then at Windhelm, they did the same thing for him when his frontal assault was successful and Ulfric Stormcloak was defeated. He told me after that, he would go and train with Greybeards in the art of the Thu'um for the next year; until he eventually searched for me to help fight the dragons with him." The crowd was listening closely to her. "He led our team to victory, and he himself rode off a dragon to defeat Alduin in Sovngarde." She glared at the councilors, especially at the High Elf ones. "His leadership is not to be underestimated."

* * *

After the session ended, people were moving out of the chambers. After wards, several key people had met up with each other. Most of the Councilors were convening with Motierre, when he came and turned toward Arminius and his friends and approached them.

"Honestly I was hoping that you wouldn't have said anything," Motierre said to Jenassa. "But it turned out better than I expected."

"I expected the same kind of reaction from them," she said, crossing her arms. "It seems that Dark Elves will always face prejudice no matter what their intentions."

"I just hope that the other councilors will see past it," he said, looking over at them.

* * *

Eventually afterwards, Arminius and Hadvar were left alone when they were approached by General Scipio.

"Proper good job out there," he said. "I would've testified for you but unfortunately I haven't really seen you in action; I've only heard stories."

"General Scipio, I need to ask you something," Arminius said. "We were looking through some books the other day and it said that you were related to the last Champion of Cyrodiil, Marcus Pollo."

Scipio had his hands behind his back and he nodded.

"It's true," he said. "He was one of my great grandfathers on my mother's side. I was hoping to keep it low so I wouldn't get much attention for that."

"Well that's a great legacy to have, one of your great grandfathers being the savior of Tamriel," Arminius said. Scipio again nodded. "Cairus Pollo, sounds like a great name."

"It does, doesn't it?" He said, and then turned his back to them. "I could've kept that last name, but I didn't."

"Why not?"

"To honor my father's memory."

"I heard he died in the Great War." Scipio fell silent, then spoke up again.

"I was only five at the time, living inside the Imperial City with my mother. When it initially fell, my father came to us badly wounded. He told me and my mother to run with Mede's retreating army while he held them off for as long as he can. That was the last time I ever saw him alive." Arminius remained silent. "I witnessed the battle of the Red Ring, and I promised myself that one day I will avenge my father's death."

* * *

**Little bit of Scipio's background, but I really want to speed this up. Next chapter, things will fly by rather quickly. **


	23. Chapter 22

**So it turns out that I mixed up the names of the orcs in my stories. The brute Orc in the arena is actually named Uzulac, and the councilor is named Lashn. Just want to make that clear; that mistake has been made two chapters ago.**

* * *

Next morning, the crowds cheers of the arena had roared through the sunny horizon. Erik was getting ready for his big fight with Lashn, while Mjoll stood by him. As he was warming up, Jonro stepped up to him for some news.

"I have some bad news for you kid," Jonro said. "There's been a change in schedule, you're not going to be fighting Lashn." Erik looked at him in confusion.

"What? Who is then?" He asked. Jonro pointed over to Mjoll, taking her back.

"What?" She let out. Jonro nodded.

"Yes you, get ready to fight," he said.

"But what about me!? What will I do!?" Erik shook him. Jonro pushed him off annoyed.

"For now you'll just be observing," Jonro said. "Please step away from me." Jonro moved out of the room, and Erik turned to Mjoll.

"Mjoll, listen to me," he said, grabbing her shoulders. "I know that we've faced worse things, and that I like to boast about it; but please, be careful. We don't want to lose you…I don't want to lose you!"

"Erik…" Mjoll said. "I can handle him; it's nothing to worry about."

"Listen, I know that Arminius is probably going to become Emperor by next week, so if you survive or not, I promise I'll step away from this!" Mjoll cut him off and embraced him in a warm hug.

"I'll be okay," she said.

* * *

Her heart was racing, and she felt that she lied to Erik. She believed that she wasn't going to be okay. As she stood behind the gate, listening to the roaring crowd and the speaker.

"Good people of the Imperial City, welcome to the arena!" The usual lines he said. "Today we have two of our finest contestants facing off; Uzalac gro-Azorgrak, and Mjoll the Lionness!" Her nervousness built up even more and she took a deep breath, gripping Grimsever tightly in a shaky palm. She closed her eyes to meditate for the minute, regaining her composure and steady form. Then she heard the announcer begin the battle, and the gates raised open.

Immediately she opened her eyes and dashed out onto the field where she saw the brute Orc Uzulac come at her with his might, gripping his two handed sword in his hands. They engaged in the very middle, Uzulac throwing down the force of his long blade with Mjoll blocking overhead. He fiercely striked a fast and countless number of times, keeping her shield over her head and forcing her to withdraw her counter attacks.

His beating down on her shield eventually brought her to a knee, where he kicked her back with his foot. She fell on her back, scrambling to get up and regain her form. She held her shield back up to him, this time the brute orc grabbing the edges of it and flinging her off to the side.

The crowd went wild; Erik was up in the stands biting his nails nervously and seeing Mjoll get beaten down was hard to watch.

Mjoll lost grip of her shield, so she was left with only Grimsever. The Orc came at her again, this time Mjoll doing the swinging. The orc dodged several times before taking a scrape to the chest. The orc roared at the pain and the icy substance that came from the cut, and he charged at her with all his anger.

She tried to swing again, but he dodged several times before grabbing her wrist on her sword arm and twisting it. She yelled, losing her grip on Grimsever and her body twisting sideways onto her knees. The much larger and stronger Orc used his right hand to choke her, and he lifted her till her feet came off the ground. She was choking on his iron fist, using her hands to try and pull them off.

She eventually lifted her legs and forced the bottom of her foot down on his face; the Orc moving back and dropping her to hold his face. It was now bleeding, and he moved to her crawling form.

He tried to push his foot down on her, but she was able to grab hold of Grimsever, turn over, and use it to try and push him back. She used her might, and then eventually she kicked at his ankle, making him lose his footing and taking the pressure off of her.

They both got up quickly, and Uzulac charged at her again. She swung, but of an amazing display of toughness, his hand caught the end of her sword, working through the icy pain and the blood that was now pouring. He then delivered several punches to her shoulder, stomach, and then sending her to the ground with an upper cut.

He then went down on her, delivering tons of quick and powerful punches to her face, leaving it horribly bruised and with a broken nose. He was panting and he got up, moving away from her broken form; the crowd cheering wilder than ever.

"Could it be? Uzulac beat an armed opponent with his bare hands?" The announcer said. Uzulac had picked up the sword that he had dropped earlier, and moved over to Mjoll who was attempting to get up on her knees. He looked down at her, thinking of her pathetically and scoffing at her. The crowd was now chanting Uzulac's name, as he turned back to look up into the stands and roaring for them to cheer louder.

As he was distracted, Mjoll slowly crawled and took back a hold of Grimsever. As he turned around, her strength was regained in her desperate rage, and with a fierce swing, she sliced open his throat, cutting clean through his Adams apple and nearly reaching his spinal cord; Uzulac dropping his sword and now trying to hold back the oozing and squirting blood.

The crowd was now fell into a shocked silence as he fell to his knees and she emerged over him with a glare.

It was now her, through her bruised and beaten face, that was looking down in the heavily bleeding orc. She lifted her sword up in a stabbing form; Uzulac slowly looking up at her in defeat.

She contemplated the brute for a second, thinking of how to kill him, until she eventually used her might to drive the sword from under his chin through the top of his skull.

Blood and brain splattered, his eyes now went red as blood drained out of them; Grimsever now coated in crimson from tip to handle. She pulled the sword out of the dead Orc, getting blood all over her boots and hands and his body thudded down on his face.

The crowd was now entertained by the brutal ending she put to the once undefeated Uzulac, and they cheered louder for her, chanting out 'Lionness'.

Eventually she had to be treated for her face wounds and broken nose. The people of the Arena were sad to see her decide to leave the Arena for good with Erik.

* * *

**Was her brutal finish to Uzulac descriptive enough? I'm a fan of ultra-violent and descriptive combat. **

**Read and Review this filler chapter, next one will get good and it will mark the end of the second sequence. **


	24. Chapter 23

Somewhere out on the hill tops near a plain of southern Cyrodiil, a military encampment was set up. An entire Imperial Legion was ordered under Opiter Kaeso to set up their fortifications there for reasons they do not know yet. It was large, many different catapults and weapon were prominent over the tents and dozens of men that were cooking their meals in large fireplace pots.

The two High Elven councilors had ridden their horses up through this camp, getting weird looks from the Imperial troops as they passed. They eventually approached the very center where the Legion's banner and metal crafted dragon symbol was. They got off of their horses and made their way inside a tent, where they saw Varius Nero standing alongside General Opiter Kaeso and Ambassador Elenwen in her Thalmor robes.

"Ambassador Elenwen!" They greeted, bowing to her.

"Councilors," She said. "It seems to me that the rest of the Council wants only the Dragonborn to come into power."

"You're right," Faebinder said, nodding. "None of them even want to hear me, Councilor Laemorin, or Nero!"

"What should we do?" Laemorin asked. Ambassador Elenwen picked up a piece of paper and rolled it up, wrapping it in a red ribbon and handing it to Councilor Faebinder.

"Then we shall let the next phase commence," she said. Faebinder and Laemorin knew exactly what she was talking about and they stood firmly. "Now go, deliver this to them and return here at once."

They nodded and walked out of the camp. Ambassador Elenwen turned to see Nero looking at her questioningly.

"If it fails, what would they do with me?" He asked. Elenwen smiled.

"You have nothing to worry about Varius," she said. "You have done your part for the Aldmeri Dominion, so in return we will hide you once this fails."

"Are you expecting this to fail?" Nero asked.

"Of course, the main objective is to keep the Empire weak and drain it of its resources."

* * *

In the darkness of his house, Councilor Cidius Albuttian was busy working on his paperwork for the next Elder Council session. The only candle lit up in the room was the one at his desk, and out of the darkness from behind him.

"Cidius," came a Summerset accent. Albuttian stopped his writing, and jumped out of his seat to lok behind him.

"Who's there?!" he demanded. Out of the shadow came the form of Councilor Mearanil Faebinder. "Mearanil?! What are you doing here? How did you get in my house?!" He yelled. Faebinder lifted his hand in peace.

"Your front door was unlocked," he replied. "But at this point, you have much bigger things to worry about." He held out a scroll, offering it to Albuttian to take. He was reluctant, but he took it in his hands, looking at it for a moment.

"What is it supposed to be?" Albuttian asked, looking up to see that the High Elf councilor had disappeared. He looked around slowly for the moment, then eventually gave up on wondering where he was and put his attention back on the scroll he gave him.

He opened it up and read the contents of the message. After scaling his eyes down to the very bottom, the blood from his face drained and his mouth hung open.

_The Elder Council of the Empire_

_It is this moment in time that we have decided that the leadership of the Empire be ultimately decided in the way that is should. I, Varius Nero stand with the second legion under General Opiter Kaeso, a loyalist to my cause. I stand to challenge the Dragonborn, Arminius Constantine for the rule of the Dragon Throne instead of listening to a bunch of aristocrats spew bias. I and the second Legion hearby declare a state of war upon the current establishment of the government of Cyrodiil. _

_My forces have occupied the lands of the West Weald and we hold the position until a Legion loyal to the Elder Council and the Dragonborn decides to meet us. May the Divines have mercy on us all._

* * *

Albuttian bursted through the doors of the Elder Council chambers and found High Chancellor Garrett Malvolan residing in his large chair.

"High Chancellor!" He called through puffing breaths. "High Chancellor!" Malvolan stood up and looked at him questioningly. "Garrett…" He stopped in front of him and tried to catch his breath.

"What is it, Cidius?" Malvolan asked. Albuttian handed over the unraveled scroll, the High Chancellor taking it and reading it through.

"Mearanil came to me with this and just disappeared!" He said, still panting. Garrett finished reading it and looked up into space.

"Cyrodiil is at war once again…" He said, and then shouting for the guards. The Imperial guards rushed in and saluted the High Chancellor. "Send out Emissaries to all the cities in the province, notify the counts to move into war protocol."

War Protocol was a plan for cities to keep their gates closed to everyone inside and outside unless those moving through are active military or allied forces.

"Sir!" One of the guards saluted and ran off.

"Send out emissaries to each of the High Commanders of the Legions except the second, I'm calling for an emergency war council."

"Yes sir," the guard saluted. The last one stood waiting for his orders.

"Send some of the guard to find the Councilors and the Dragonborn, and bring them here immediately," he ordered. The same guard saluted and went off. Malvolan turned to Albuttian who had just caught his breath.

"You'll have to stay here for now," he said, Albuttian nodding.

The High Chancellor though of what he was to do with the Dragonborn. He remembered when reading through his history of how Martin Septim came to be the Emperor, and how it was under dire circumstances. He believed that at this point, there needed to be an Emperor to lead the Empire in this newly risen Civil War. The coronation ceremony can wait, and it's possible that most of the Council agrees on Constantine's claim to the throne.

All they need is one quick session to agree on it, along with Constantine's consent and the Empire will have an Emperor again.

* * *

**So the events here seem kind of speedy, but that's kind of what happens when people are scrambling to organize for a war. **

**So it's the last chapter of this sequence, hope you enjoyed this. (It was kind of boring for me.) **

**Read and Review. **


	25. Sequence 3: War in Cyrodiil, Chapter 24

The news had rocketed across the Empire. What would take Imperial couriers about a week to reach their places it only took a couple of days. Already, the Imperial commanders are scrambling to gather at the Imperial city for the emergency War Council.

General Arctrius Tullius was one of them; leaving his Legion momentarily to the command of High Legate Rikke.

General Cairus Scipio of the fifth Legion was there even quicker. Beforehand, however, the Elder Council was called into a quick session to ultimately decide on Constantine's claim to the Dragon Throne.

The council had gathered in the chambers, Faebinder and Laemorin missing from the group. With them were Constantine and his 'personal guard.'

Moria Gallenus was tapping her foot nervously.

"Where are Councilor's Faebinder and Laemorin?" She questioned.

"They don't matter now, Moria!" Cidius bursted. "Mearanil came to me earlier with this declaration; might as well hail them as traitors."

"Please, Cidius, get a hold of yourself," Malvolan said. "Take a seat." Cidius stopped at his order, shaking. He slowly took a seat, trying to calm himself. "It is fair at this point to exclude Councilors Faebinder and Laemorin and continue this last session." He turned to the sitting Constantine and began to speak to him. "Arminius Constantine, as a Dragonborn do you lay claim to the Dragon Throne."

Arminius had to think about it for the moment; the whole time he was just playing along with Councilor Motierre's game, but never really thought about him actually wanting to take the Throne. He was persuaded to run in the candidacy, and felt like it was his duty. But this was his clean and conscious thought; he believed that he needed to take this Dragon throne.

In the books that he has read, they said that the Dragon Throne was the rightful place of a Dragonborn, ever since Tiber Septim. It was now his duty to claim it, experience or not. Hell, Martin Septim didn't have much experience on being an Emperor, yet he was still glorious in his five minutes of being one.

Arminius looked to his friends, each one of them nodding for approval. Then he focused specifically on his wife, who slowly nodded her head as she looked at him with her red eyes.

Arminius acknowledged and turned back to the High Chancellor.

"Yes I do," he said. The High Chancellor nodded and looked around at the other Councilors.

"Then we will conduct a chamber vote," he said. "Do any of you wish to object?" The council remained silent, and Malvolan took that as a no. "All those in favor of the Dragonborn to claim the Dragon Throne."

Immediately, every Councilor raised their hand, one hundred percent of them. "The votes make up three thirds of the present chambers. I pass the votes as accepted." Malvolan stood from his seat and walked over to Arminius.

"Arminius Constantine, please stand," he said. Arminius stood and faced the High Chancellor, his friends standing up straight to get a good look at this moment. The rest of the Elder Council stood as well. Malvolan got on one knee and held out his hands above his head.

"Arminius Constantine, on behalf of the Elder Council, I accept your claim to the Dragon Throne," he stood up. "Unfortunately, the coronation ceremony will have to wait until this war is resolved."

So that's it, he's the Emperor now. Having that title brought a rush to his heart rate and his body temperature to heat up, especially now that it's in a time of war. But now Arminius had to express confidence and a commending attitude.

"We will get you your Emperor's Robes immediately," he said, before Arminius cut him off.

"What armor does the Emperor wear?" he asked.

"It's the Emperor's special armor," Malvolan replied.

"Bring that here instead," Arminius said. "We're in a time of war and we need to be ready."

"Of course, sire," Malvolan said. "You are also expected to be present at the war council."

"I know, just bring me that Armor, you can worry about the Robes later."

The other councilors had bowed to him, greeted him as "Sire" or "Your Majesty." It felt empowering that he was given these terms, but at the same time weird because he wasn't used to it.

Eventually, his friends came up to him.

"So you're the Emperor now?" Hadvar questioned, smiling. "I don't suppose we should call you 'your majesty' from now on?"

"You don't have to worry about formalities with me, Hadvar," he said. "You're all my friends, you bow to no one."

"So what should we do now?" Marcurio asked. Arminius thought for the second and then sighed.

"For now, you'll keep acting as my personal guard, at least until the Penitus Ocalatus get here," Arminius took another look around at them, remembering all their different skills as individuals. "I might have some things planned for all of us."

* * *

It was a secluded part of the area where the camp of the second Legion was. The small hill covered by several different trees was being looked out over by Ambassador Elenwen.

"Elenwen!" came Kaeso from behind her. She turned and saw several of her Justiciars and about an entire unit of Kaeso's troops. "I brought these men just as you asked." Elenwen nodded and put her attention on the scared looking Legionnaires.

"I chose you specific men because I was given access to your personal records, all your family and friends," Elenwen said. One Legionnaire started to shake, and he gulped. "If you don't do as I say, your families will be in serious peril. Am I clear?"

"…yes Ma'am," some of them said together, nervously. She turned out to look at the sunset, hands behind her back.

"There are some villages and small settlements in the general area," she said. "Pillage them, leave it disturbed and the residents with no home to come to." The Legionnaires were silent, stuttering in shock. "Go."

"uhh…yes Ma'am."

They nervously went on and destroyed several villages in the coming of the next few days. The Thalmor Justiciars that were watching over them made sure that they actually did what they were told, and that they weren't hesitant about it. They left a lot of grieving families, but it was to protect their own. Now the Legionnaires were really questioning what they were doing, but they were unable to because Elenwen would have their heads.

* * *

**For some reason, each of these chapters seem like a rush job. **

**Read and Review. **


	26. Chapter 25

While they were waiting for the Generals to gather for the War Council, Arminius decided to take a look through the Imperial Palace. It was…large, grand, rich. He was up in the Emperor's private quarters, and even that was large and full of color. There were several Argonians and Khajiit's working as servants spiffing up the place.

It doesn't seem like they had any idea who was just crowned Emperor at the moment.

"Excuse me," a female Argonian said. "What are you doing here in the Emperor's quarters?" Coming in the door behind Arminius was Marcurio struggling to carry his special Emperor's armor. The poor guy was usually the one to have to carry everything around for everyone.

"Uh…well I'm just taking a tour around…"

"Tours aren't allowed in here!" She cut him off. Jenassa came through the door with Hadvar and noticed the conversation going on.

"Watch your tongue, Argonian!" Jenassa called out to her. "That's the Emperor you're speaking to!" The Argonian's eyes widened.

"The Emperor… the Council found a new Emperor?" Immediately she and the other servants in the large bedroom chambers fell on their knees and bowed to him. "Your majesty, please forgive me for not knowing." Arminius chuckled lightly at the treatment he was getting.

"It's okay," he smiled, and reached to her. "What's your name?" The Argonian was hesitant, but eventually she nervously took his hand and lifted herself up with his help.

"Okura," she said.

"Okura," Arminius acknowledged. "I'm Emperor Constantine, Arminius Constantine. You and the others did a nice job cleaning the place."

"Uhh…thank you, your majesty."

"I would love to stay and chat, but right now my guards and I need to get ready for a war council," Arminius said. "You are dismissed."

"Yes, your majesty," she said, and her and the others went off. Arminius turned to Marcurio who had just toppled over on the ground with the armor pieces.

"You okay there?" He said laughing.

"I am a wizard, not a pack mule," Marcurio shot.

"Yeah yeah, you've said that the last thousand times we made you carry things," Hadvar said, bending over to pick up the pieces of armor. "Now help me get this on him."

They all worked on figuring out how to get the special armor onto Arminius. Perhaps they could have gotten the servants to do so, but Arminius unfortunately called them out at an inconvenient time. Through the struggle, they were able to latch on the last few pieces and he was all set.

The Armor resembled much of the Imperial legion, the shoulder plates and the dragon symbol going down the chest piece. It was red mostly, especially with things that were in cloth like the cape that was on it. The color of steel formed on the more armored parts. An under layer of red colored leather seemed to cover more parts of his body that regular Legionnaire heavy armor wouldn't, like the arm and leg areas. His helmet was quite a rare sight; usually only worn by generals but not as much in use anymore. It covered more of the face, leaving a slender opening from the bottom of the nose down to his chin, and small eye slits for sight (think of a Spartan helmet.) It had a crimson red plume coming from the very back to the very top right down the middle on a crest holder; much like what Legates in the Legion would wear.

The Armor itself was said to be passed down from Emperor to Emperor, but most aren't sure how far. The sources say that the armor set was what Titus Mede II used at the Battle of the Red Ring, that much was assured.

"By Talos," Hadvar said, looking Arminius up and down. "That's a damn fine set of armor."

Arminius lifted the helmet off of him and tucked it under his armpit.

"I'll have to get used to the helmet."

* * *

A while later, Arminius' friends and wife had left him to go around and inform the public of his becoming of the Emperor. In the meantime, the Generals have finally gathered in the Elder Council chambers and were waiting for the Emperor to attend.

When he entered the chambers in his armor, all the generals stood and chest saluted him.

"My Emperor!" they all said. Arminius, being the soldier he was, saluted them back.

"It's great that you are all here," Arminius said, walking over to a seat that stood out from the rest of the chairs. "Please have a seat." He and all the commanders sat down, adjusting themselves accordingly.

"Let us begin then," The High Chancellor said, sitting down as well. "Opiter Kaeso and Varius Nero have declared a state of war on Cyrodiil, they are attempting to overthrow our current Emperor, Arminius Constantine." It was funny, only 2 days and already he's made enemies as the Emperor.

"Why would Kaeso be the only one to back him?" One of the Generals asked.

"Because General Kaeso commands the second Legion, possibly the largest in the whole garrison," General Scipio replied to the question.

"So who would be engaging Kaeso's forces?" Everyone turned to Arminius, who had his hand on his chin for support. "My Emperor?" Arminius thought about the safety of the homeland.

"Cyrodiil is in a vulnerable state right now, we need Legions to stay behind and guard the borders and our occupied territories," he said. He looked around and noticed Tullius there, staying quiet. "General Tullius?"

"Yes, my Emperor?" Tullius replied.

"I was in your Legion for quite a while, your men can fight," Arminius said. "How would you like the opportunity to fight again?" Tullius was silent for the moment, thinking of what to say.

"What about Skyrim? I'm still its Military Governor."

"We can replace you momentarily until the war is over," Arminius said. "I think we could benefit from having a master tactician out on the field." Tullius nodded in approval. General Scipio stood from his seat.

"My Emperor, I volunteer my Legion and I to accompany Tullius' fourth," he said.

"I accept your offer, Scipio," Arminius replied. "It seems to me like this is a Skyrim Civil War re-union." The Generals in the room chuckled.

The plan was for the first and third Legions would be guarding the Eastern and Western borders from Hammerfell and Morrowind. The sixth Legion was to momentarily trade places with the fourth, and Tullius' fourth would be recalled to fight. The seventh would stay right in High Rock.

* * *

After the war council, Emperor Constantine stepped back from the room, where he encountered some Penitus Ocalatus agents.

"My Emperor!" They said, saluting. The one in the middle in particular went forward with the words.

"Emperor Constantine, I am Commander Cassius Maro of the Penitus Ocalatus, your personal guard," he said.

"Yes, I'm aware of you," Arminius said. "It's good that you're here; just don't go let people assassinate me, okay?" Maro and the two other agents gave a nervous look to him. "Oh I'm only teasing." Arminius laughed.

Arminius was accompanied up to his private chambers, and the agents were left outside the room. Arminius walked in to find his wife moving about the room.

"Jenassa," Arminius said. The Dark Elf turned to see him, and she smiled lightly.

"My Emperor," she said. He approached her and they engaged in a long kiss. When they pulled away, Arminius held her and looked down to her.

"I'm guessing we're going to be spending plenty of time in here, eh?" he said.

"Oh really, now?" Jenassa said.

"Well if we're going to continue the Constantine blood line, it's best to start making babies," Arminius said, and thought about something. "Hmm…what would the offspring of an Imperial man and a Dark Elf look like?"


	27. Chapter 26

Arminius and Jenassa both decided to put their new giant fancy bed and large private fancy quarters to some use. Jenassa lay on her back, wrapping her naked legs around Arminius as she was being pushed back and forth by his thrusts. His thrusts were so quick and powerful that the fire in the fire place was flickering to their beat.

He got faster, and their moans were slowly getting louder. He neared orgasm and with one powerful thrust, he exploded inside of her, leaking his love juice.

The moment calmed with them panting and catching their breath. He slid his member out of her vaginal hole, the hole leaking out drops of semen. He turned over and dropped himself on his back beside her; Jenassa curling up to him and laying her head on his chest.

"So do you think that would work?" She asked, breathing into the skin on his pectoral.

"We shall find out soon enough," he replied. They stayed like this for a moment until they heard a sharp knock at the double doors across the room. "Who is it?!"

"Penitus Ocalatus Agent Gaius Maro, my Emperor," came the muffled voice from behind the door. "I was told to make a delivery to you." Arminius came out of Jenassa's comfort and lifted himself to the side of the bed. Jenassa curled herself up more, grabbing one of the large pillows and hugging her body up to it.

Arminius stood and found his undergarments and put them on, then reached the door. He opened it to see a young man, just a little bit younger than him, standing at the door with a sheathed sword in the shape of a katana in his hands. Upon seeing Arminius' half naked form, Gaius began stuttering.

"Uhh…my Emperor, was I interrupting something?" He said, glancing in and seeing the Dark Elf woman naked and hugging herself up against the pillow.

"No, you had good timing in fact," Arminius said. "Now what is it you're delivering me?" Gaius held out the sheathed katana to him.

"It's Goldbrand, my Emperor," he said. "It was in Titus Mede's will to give this to the next Emperor."

"You mean the Daedric Artifact?" Arminius said, and then he held out his palm. "Give it here." Gaius put it in his hands. Arminius gripped the handle with his right hand, held the sword sheath with his left and pulled it out, making the ringing sound and the buzz of its enchantment. It was of course colored gold, with the sword part covered in light red colors due to its fire enchantment. Arminius stepped back from the door to find some space and swung it around a couple of times, spinning it with his great swordsmanship. He stopped and brought it up to eye level. "This is a fine sword," he sheathed it. "Thank you."

Gaius nodded, "My Emperor." He turned to carry on, but Arminius stopped him.

"Hey wait!" He called. Gaius looked back wide eyed at him and came back.

"What is it, my Emperor?" He asked.

"Later, I want everything the Penitus Ocalatus knows about Titus Mede's assassination," Gaius nodded, and said his farewells.

* * *

In some of the more peaceful parts of Skyrim, there stood the village of Riverwood. It was one of the larger villages in the province and definitely one of the more prosperous. It used to be close second with Ivarstead until General Scipio came along and sacked the place and burnt most of it down because of the Stormcloak sympathizers and Stormcloak equipment hoarding they found there; now Riverwood stood first.

In the town's general goods store was the Valerius siblings. Lucan was the main store owner and the man who worked at the counter, while his sister Camilla would help him around. However, it was different than it was five years ago; Camilla was to stirring in her pot and sweeping the place as usual, but next to her sitting on the cold wood floor was a five year old boy playing with some toys.

She looked down at him.

"Caius, sweetie, do you want some lunch?" She asked in a higher pitched voice. The five year old looked up.

"Yes mommy," the little boy replied. Camilla smiled and went back to stirring the pot, getting a light stew ready for the boy.

Lucan was just finishing up making a transaction with a customer, and in the meantime they were making small talk. The young man Lucan was talking to was a young and skinny Nord carrying a duffle bag around his shoulder; obviously he was a courier.

"So did you hear about the new Emperor?" He said.

"A new Emperor, huh?" Lucan replied, pulling out a box and counting his coin. "No, I haven't."

"Really? He's been all over the posters lately. He's the Dragonborn, the one that saved us from the Dragons," the courier said. Camilla stood frozen when she heard 'the Dragonborn.' Was it the same Dragonborn that she knew? The one she knew that had saved Tamriel?

"His name is Arminius Constantine," the courier said. "Everyone should know him by now." At that, Lucan had stopped dead in his tracks as well when he heard 'Dragonborn' and 'Arminius Constantine'. He immediately looked over to Camilla who was giving his the same glance, and then they both looked down at the five year old boy.

Later on, Lucan had rented out a carriage for both Camilla and her five year old son, Caius; with them he packed plenty of general items to help them survive all provided by his store.

"I don't know when I'll be back, Lucan," Camilla said.

"Just be safe, okay?" He replied. He then watched her go off with the carriage down south.

"Mommy, where are we going?" Caius asked, biting at his fingers.

"We're going to see your dad, sweetie."

* * *

**What does that mean!? Find out in the chapters to come! **

**Don't forget to read and review, subscribe and favorite! **


	28. Chapter 27

Arminius had on some more comfortable clothing as he was waiting in his room for Commander Maro to come by. In the cabinets he found some really high class mead that he would like to try. He sat at a corner table and poured himself some, getting a taste of it.

Already, he loved it. He kept taking some until a knock came at the door.

"My Emperor!" Came the familiar voice of Commander Maro.

"Come in, Maro!" Arminius called out. Immediately, the Agent walked in with several scrolls in his hand. Arminius had been expecting him, so he had laid out a glass for him at his table.

"My Emperor, you said you wanted to speak about Titus Mede's assassination?" Maro asked.

"Yes I did," Arminius replied, and then pushed the glass further to the available seat. "Come sit, I have some mead if you want some?" Maro came and sat down, laying out the scrolls.

"No thank you, my Emperor," He said. Arminius put his glass down, and halted Maro with his hand, gulping down the mead in his throat before speaking.

"Before we begin, what's the status on Scipio and Tullius?"

"From what I'm informed, General Scipio is currently on the march Kaeso's position and he will hold there until Tullius and his Legion arrives."

"How long will Tullius be?"

"To move an army from Skyrim to southern Cyrodiil, it could take weeks; a week and a half at best," Arminius pulled a fist up to his face and rested it on his mouth.

"Hmm…" he mumbled, nodding. "Let's hope Scipio doesn't decide to attack just yet. Now what do you have?" Commander Maro looked directly at Arminius as he unrolled a scroll and handed it over to him. Arminius read it over.

It was a documented report of the events leading up to Titus Mede's assassination.

_Vittoria Vicci murdered at wedding. Emperor Titus Mede is alerted and makes the decision to go to Skyrim. The way he was acting seemed almost as if he was expecting something big to come around, and he surely wasn't in mourning for his cousin either. _

_When we were reviewing the crime scene, we found that Vicci was killed with an ebony arrow to the chest region. We found that the blood that she was bleeding had turned a purplish-reddish color, meaning she was poisoned. The ebony arrow tip had poison on it. _

_Later on, Titus Mede had planned for a dinner party at the Castle Dour. He arranged for the legendary chef, 'The Gourmet' to prepare the meal. _

_We were informed that he was staying at the Nightgate inn, and we were assigned to retrieve him and take him back to Solitude. When we came, he wasn't anywhere to be found. We waited for a little while until we figured that something was wrong, we decided to search the place for him thoroughly until we happened to find the dead body of the Orc hiding behind a mead barrel. _

_Like Vicci, he had an ebony arrow sticking out of his chest, and his blood had turned purplish red. We were able to identify him as a chef due to the Chef's clothing that we found in his bag and a recipe book that was called 'Gourmet.' However, his writ of passage was missing, and we believed that it was taken by the same person who murdered Vicci considering the ebony arrow and the poison. _

_We returned to Solitude in fear that the murder may be going after the Emperor. We even thought that maybe it was an inside job, considering that whoever it was knew what we were planning. _

_We informed Emperor Mede and we set up a double to pose as the Emperor, and we continued the dinner plan. _

_When the murderer posing as the Gourmet came in with the Castle Dour Chef, we immediately caught a description of him. He was a Dunmer, red eyes, brown hair. We blocked off the back door and left the front door accessible and we waited outside inside the tower where the bridge would lead. _

_The Dunmer immediately came running out, sprinting across the bridge and stripping off the chef's clothing into something underneath. It was a skin tight light armor, mostly black with some red; and then he pulled a hood up over his head and we were able to figure out just who he was. _

_He was a Dark Brotherhood assassin; we attempted to subdue him, but he was too quick, and he stabbed down a couple of my men before escaping. _

Arminius looked up at Maro.

"Dark Brotherhood?" Arminius said. "I thought they were a myth."

"They're no myth, my emperor," Maro said. "My late father used to be one of them; I know their moves better than anyone."

"Your father was an assassin?" Arminius asked surprised.

"Antonius Maro was his name," Maro said. "He was part of the Brotherhood here in Cyrodiil until his death. Up until my coming of age, when he was still alive, I estranged myself from him. But growing up, I've seen his wrongdoings and just how the Dark Brotherhood works; even then, I couldn't stop them in time. I guess the Dark Brotherhood in Skyrim is different than in Cyrodiil."

Arminius reached over and put his hand on Maro's shoulder pad.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," he said. "But I want you to continue this investigation, and try to figure out who is behind all of this. In time, there will need to be changes in the Penitus Ocalatus, and I will apply them."

"My Emperor? What do you mean?" Arminius took another sip of his drink.

"I want the job as a Penitus Ocalatus agent to be open to any who qualify, regardless of race," Arminius had thought about it for the past few days, and he feels that this would be the first and very smallest step to defying the White-Gold Concordat. He knows that it is the Empire's all time goal to defeat the Third Dominion and finally bring peace to Tamriel once more; but in the position they were in, they were far from it.

"But wouldn't that violate the White-Gold Concordat?"

"Not if we tweak it to the minimum," Arminius smiled, taking another sip. "I have an office, right?"

* * *

Maro led Arminius to another room. In it was a wooden floor and red carpet on it. The Walls were stone, and had flags next to each of the colored windows. On the sides were large book cases along with torches to light them right next to each one. In the very middle of the room was a wooden desk made of a darker shade of wood. On it were various different writing materials like the ink and quill, the stack of paper scrolls, etc. There was of course another fancy made chair with arm rests and a red pillow on it, clearly for the Emperor; two other chairs occupied the opposite side.

"Ahh, great place," Arminius said, taking a walk around and breathing in the old smell.

"A lot of historical things happened in here, my Emperor," Maro said. Arminius looked at him and gestured to him as he sat down in his chair.

"Come on, let's discuss this plan of mine," he said. Maro then sat down in the chair opposite to him. Arminius grabbed one of the blank scrolls and rolled it out. He then took the quill and dipped it in ink, and began drawing out a diagram.

The first box on the very top read 'Penitus Ocalatus.' Arminius began to explain as he drew on.

"The Penitus Ocalatus should remain my personal guard, but it should be separated into two different branches." He drew two lines coming out from the 'Penitus Ocalatus' and put circles at the end of them. In one he wrote 'Guard' and the other 'Homeland Security.'

Maro has never heard that one before, 'Homeland Security?' It was never really brought up when it comes to the Emperor's personal guards. Arminius knew that he had a very imaginative mind, especially when it comes to things that matter.

"Guard, and Homeland Security," he said, pointing to each one. "The Guard will remain as my personal guard, keeping most of the aspects that the White-Gold Concordat had. The Homeland security part, however, will involve in the safety and security of the Empire, espionage, and the head of the law."

"But my Emperor, the Penitus Ocalatus already does most of that…"

"Yes, but we can expand on that, make it more flexible," Arminius interrupted. "The homeland security side will be the one that I authorize any race to join as long as they meet the requirements." Maro thought for the moment, and then agreed that he should listen to what his Emperor was proposing.

"That can work, I guess," Maro said.

"For now, I want a nationwide recruiting campaign beginning by the end of this week. Once you meet the recruitment standards and they receive their training then we are ready to put the concept in practice."

"Yes, my Emperor; I will inform the other Agents at our next board meeting."

* * *

Jenassa woke with an uncomforted stomach. She dragged her naked form out of the bed and staggered around a little, bringing herself to her knees and hanging her head low. Eventually, vomit formed in her mouth and out came the putrid brown and green fluid, and onto the floor. She choked and gagged from what remained and she spit it out, gasping.

_So it worked._

* * *

**Uh-Oh, it looks like Arminius is going to be the father of TWO children of different mothers! **

**SHIT. **

**Oh, and I'm planning to write a sequel to this that involves Arminius' two children as grown-ups, being the heirs to the throne. **


	29. 28: History of the Skyrim Civil War

**Here's just a little history on my canon and the Skyrim Civil War. It's a long chapter of useless information, but I hope is still interesting nonetheless.**

* * *

Arminius was just informed that the Fourth Legion had finally made it past the Jerall Mountain range and is in Cyrodiil. The march to the west wield would maybe last another week.

He was also informed that General Scipio's fifth had confronted Kaeso's second in the valley, with some skirmishes every now and then, but no major engagements. Scipio was given strict orders by the Emperor not to engage Kaeso until Tullius could arrive with his Legion and tip the balance of the battle.

Both their legions had a basic size of 30,000 Legionaries, combining into 60,000 total. They would go up against the second which would have a size of 50,000 Legionaries, the same size as the Stormcloaks were.

Back in the Skyrim Civil War, Tullius' legion was being hammered in the beginning, maybe because they were called to fight directly after Ulfric Stormcloak killed High King Torygg. Immediately the day after Cohorts were spread and scrambled to bring security to the fronts.

The very first time that the Imperial forces and the Stormcloaks had engaged in combat was only two days after Torygg's death near a Giant camp called 'Blizzard Rest' in a snowy part of the northern Whiterun region going into Eastmarch. Hadvar was at this battle, and it would remind the Imperials and Stormcloaks to be ready for a longer war.

The Cohorts at the Whitewatch tower and Hill 40 and 41 dispatched several centuries to confront them. In the beginning, they were able to hold off Stormcloak attacks, maintaining formation and holding the wall with their Scutum shields. (**Scutum shields are the basic rectangular like Roman shields; the Imperial Legion had a smaller version of the Scutum shields in the third Elder Scrolls: Morrowind.) **

Unfrtunately, Stormcloak reinforcements of 2,000 overtook the right flank and forced the Imperial line to retreat back to Hill 40 and 41.

Only the day after, Cohorts from Morthal was ordered to march on Dawnstar. They were ambushed, initially able to beat back the first wave of attacks until taking heavy losses at the second wave from Dawnstar, and were forced to retreat back to Morthal.

It was then that the war went into a complete draw over the rest of the year. Skyrim was divided along a line known as the 12th Parallel, basically dividing Skyrim into East (Stormcloak) and West (Imperial). The Eastern cities that pledged their allegiance to Ulfric Stormcloak hailed him as the High King, but as he would have no influence in western Skyrim, he was the head controller of the alliance of the eastern cities; technically he was the High King of Eastern Skyrim. Western Skyrim's government had no High King, but rather Military Governor General Arctrius Tullius who insisted that he focuses his resources on the war, so the cities in the west momentarily remained as a Confederacy and for the most part, stayed neutral in the war.

The neutrality of the western cities could have proved to be a major disadvantage to the Imperials if it wasn't for Jarl Balgruuf's strong allegiance later within the second year; since they weren't given enough economic support as the Jarl's of the eastern cities who hailed Ulfric Stormcloak as their King were to the rebels.

Eventually within the second year of the war, Ulfric Stormcloak had his sights on the Jagged Crown and ordered his troops to find it. In a Nord burial ground, they were able to find the jagged crown, but a Nordic Imperial spy within the Stormcloak ranks was able to steal it and give it to General Tullius in a successful espionage mission.

Outraged by the betrayal, Ulfric Stormcloak ordered Galmar Stone-Fist to lead a charge of 5,000 rebels on Valtheim tower which stood as the main Imperial check point of the 12th Parallel. A morning surprise attack, they were able to rush the Imperial forces from downhill and got there in time before sustaining heavy losses. They were able to quickly route the Imperial forces from Valtheim, successfully opening a gap along the 12th parallel.

Of course, Ulfric Stormcloak didn't plan on the attack being as successful as it war to open up a soft spot for the Imperials, leading him to believe that the Empire was weaker than he had thought. He and the Stormcloak Generals in surprise had to take the time to plan on what was going to happen next.

At this point, the Imperials lost the last three major engagements, being weakened momentarily; General Tullius knew that he and first Legate Rikke were needed in the field to command the battles. He and the majority of all reserve troops in the Legion set out for the Whiterun region to reinforce the battered troops that escaped from Valtheim and the nervous Cohorts that occupied Hill 40 and 41.

Earlier, near the beginning of the war, an official from Cyrodiil acting as the diplomat from the Elder Council approached Tullius in the castle Dour. He said to him that if the Empire lost all of Skyrim, it was a likely possibility that it would be the end of the actual Empire, since most of their resources was dependent on Skyrim and that if they lose, they would be cut off from High Rock who would most likely secede from the Empire afterwards. Then he predicted that if it was to happen, it would leave both Skyrim and Cyrodiil vulnerable to a Thalmor invasion.

Tullius then knew that this wasn't about simply quelling a rebellion; it was about the future of the Empire. So after the battle of Valtheim tower, General Tullius had sent an emissary back to the Emperor Titus Mede II and the Elder Council, asking that they lend another Legion to join the fight, seeing as the fourth was horribly outnumbered.

In the meantime, the Stormcloaks planned what would be called _'The Whiterun Offensive.'_ The plan was to seize Whiterun, dividing Falkreath and Morthal and leaving them vulnerable to their attack. Overall it was their attempt at the 'divide and conquer' tactic. General Tullius, being the trained tactician he was, anticipated an attack on Whiterun, and asked Jarl Balgruuf for his cooperation. He was hesitant at first until Imperial spies came with information to prove that Tullius was right.

Balgruuf, still unsure, had sent an emissary, one of Legion's legates, to act as an emissary and bring a special war axe to Ulfric Stormcloak as a peace offering. That Legate of course was Arminius; robes covered his armor as he went into Windhelm. At that point, most of the people knew of him being the Dragonborn, including Ulfric Stormcloak as well.

Ulfric Stormcloak did what he wouldn't dare do in any other situation; try to coax a non-Nord to join the Stormcloaks. He was denied, of course, and he could have easily ordered the guards in the city to kill him, but he chose not to.

He said, 'Regardless of which side wins this war, and who he chooses to side with, the Dragonborn still plays a much bigger part in Skyrim.'

Arminius returned to Balgruuf with the Axe, and then on the Jarl knew which side he had to take. He granted General Tullius the consent for him to garrison the city. Then, the Legate's with the Cohorts present in the city and on Hill 40 and 41 had gathered to discuss the strategy on how to beat back the overwhelming force of Stormcloaks.

They knew that Galmar Stone-Fist would be leading a large force through Valtheim, and possibly attack along the southern wall; and that Ulfric Stormcloak would be leading an even larger force through the north. If they allowed them to link up, they would be facing down the largest group of rebels they would face at once, and they would surround the city and completely over take it.

Tullius pondered and wondered about attacking from the distance. He understood that common Stormcloak battle tactic consisted of a powerful charge into one specific spot to try and ultimately break it. He also understood that the Stormcloaks weren't given much in the way of standard equipment, most of them wielding two handed warhammers, axes and Greatswords that would in most cases slow their attacks compared to the standard Scutum and Gladius that Imperial Auxiliaries were equipped with; the Gladius (Shortsword) allowed quicker and more fluid attack thrusts both in and out of formation, and the Scutum shields offered five times more protection than the usual steel shield that sellswords and bandits would use.

Tullius knew the weakness of the Stormcloak's choice of equipment and how broken the tactic of theirs is, so he decided that projectiles were their best option. Ahead of time, Tullius ordered a variety of siege engines to be placed both in Whiterun and on hill's 40 and 41; they consisted of Catapults, Trebuchets, Scorpions, Ballistas, and hundreds of rounds of explosive oil and rock. The next thing was the Archers, which would make up about half the force in Whiterun and the hills combined. He also knew that it would be easier to break their strong attacks by placing obstructions to slow them down, also leaving it possible for the Archers to fire on them easier and inflict more casualties.

As predicted, Galmar Stone-Fist arrived first, letting off an initial attack along the southern wall that was of course beaten back by overwhelming Archer and artillery fire. The second day, Ulfric Stormcloak arrived in the north, receiving his share of the fighting.

The engagement at the White-Watch tower is in most cases considered a battle of its own, but still it played a very pivotal role in the Siege of Whiterun. The scene was described as an awe display of fire being thrown in one direction, raining oblivion down on the rebels. With their forces being weakened and their morale lowering, the Stormcloaks then had to try and fight a legitimate uphill battle, and through the pass between the two hills where there was overwhelming archer crossfire. During the engagement, the cavalry from the Imperial left flank hiding behind the hill had charge right into the Stormcloak right, the Archers and Artilley focusing on the reserve behind the trapped rebels.

That fight alone stood as the bloodiest and most disastrous battle for the Stormcloaks, and Ulfric Stormcloak had calmly decided to accept the defeat, knowing that if he tried to push his attack anymore and if they failed, Eastern Skyrim would be left vulnerable. So he didn't retreat out of cowardice, but he retreated knowing he failed and knowing that he needed to be able to receive another attack.

Galmar's attacks were equally as disastrous at the Southern front, taking just as many losses as he focused his attacks on the main gate where they were able to reach them only several times. Galmar wasn't the one to give up, but his soldiers were so disheartened by the constant defeats and the bodies that were staining the field that they turned and fled on their own, making Galmar go with them in an outrage.

With the Stormcloaks taking nearly twenty thousand casualties, their forces were now weakened to about half as what they used to be at the beginning of the war.

Tullius' victory at Whiterun was considered one of the most decisive in the Empire's history of warfare, and one of the most Tactically brilliant, seeing how he was able to render the Stormcloak tactics, which were successful during the beginning of the war, useless; and using their weaknesses to his advantage.

Now the Stormcloaks were turned back to the defensive, retreating from both Whiterun and Valtheim to help defend Eastern Skyrim.

Shortly after the Siege of Whiterun, the Elder Council and the Emperor both approved of Tullius' call for reinforcements, and dispatched the fifth legion under the young General Cairus Scipio.

Scipio wanted to use a tactic that Tullius would find to be walking over the edge. Scipio borrowed his Tactic from the Thalmor back in the Great War and said that he was going to make the 'Nords feel just as the way the Imperials felt before and after the White-Gold Concordat.'

He said, 'If the Stormcloaks truly see the Imperials as corrupted Thalmor men, then they shall receive it as such."

Thus Scipio began his Falkreath-Rift Campaign, also known as "Scipio's march to Riften." This relieved the fourth from the southern regions to focus on the North and their regaining of Eastmarch and Dawnstar and helped lead to their victory at Cold Harbor, which was the first time the Imperials were able to regain a lost region and push back the 12th Parallel.

For a while going into the third year, Scipio had marched through the southern mountain pass and into the beautiful landscape of the Rift. He knew that the Rift was rich in resources and support for the Stormcloaks and he wanted to destroy that completely, taking only what they need and leaving nothing else left.

On his march, if he came across any farm or business area that showed signs of Stormcloak activity, he would immediately seize all the resources and destroy what was left. This led to the sacking of many mines, caves, houses, farms, wood mills, etc. It even led to the destruction of towns such as Ivarstead.

The Stormcloaks that were located at the forts were now becoming desperate and met Scipio's forces at the bridge over the Treva River. Archer fire went back and forth across the river, going into the visible fort and on the rebels crossing the bridge. They couldn't break the Scutum shield wall and were forced to retreat back to another fort. During the two day battle, Scipio was commanding at the front line until an arrow struck him in the eye. He survived, but he was so enraged that he began to take no prisoners, and after the Stormcloaks surrendered on the second day, he ordered them to be crucified.

Even the Legionnaire's, the ones who were carrying out all the burning and pillaging, were shocked. Crucifixion was a torturous punishment that the Thalmor used in the Great War. Nonetheless, they carried out his orders. The rebels were all left on the crosses until they died, making examples of them as Scipio said. He then became the most ruthless and feared General in the Imperial Legion at the time.

He then marched right into Riften without a single fight, and sat before Jarl Laila Law-Giver and began a discussion while creepily smiling at her the whole time. He mentioned to her that the entire Rift had been devastated, both economically and physically and that at this point Ulfric Stormcloak is no longer in a position to help them. He then asked her politely to step down her throne; and she refused.

Legionnaire's then came in and grabbed her, her steward, her Stormcloak supporting son, and the housecarl's and exiled them.

With the Rift under the Empire's control and seized resources in their grasp, Tullius could finally rally all his troops for an assault on Eastmarch. In their march, they cornered the Stormcloaks at their capital in Windhelm and laid Siege to it for a week. Eventually, Imperial Siege Tactics proved useful and they were able to breach the city gates, locking in brutal street fighting for the entirety of the day. But fortunately, by dusk, they were able to kill Galmar Stone-Fist and reach the Palace of the Kings where they found Ulfric Stormcloak sitting in his throne, calmly waiting for his end.

On that day, he died on his throne by the sword of Legate Rikke, his friend and lover from the Great War. That was it, after three long years, the war was finally over. The Stormcloaks that were left in Winterhold along with the exiled Jarl's of Eastern Skyrim decided that Skyrim was corrupted and no longer needed them; they turned and fled to the island of Solstheim, where they began their own life anew.

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**I love Scipio. **

**Read and Review. **


	30. Chapter 29

After a while, Arminius sat upon the Dragon Throne for the first time. It was in a clear room, containing the banners and stone walls that it had before. The actual throne was backed up near the back wall, and Penitus Ocalatus sentries were posted around him in front of each pillar.

Arminius of course kept his Emperor's armor on, considering that there still is a civil war going about. The civil war breaking out was a way for Varius Nero to try and seize the throne from him, but he had only one Legion backing him up? And that Legion would be facing up against two of the Empire's finest? The ones that had the experience through the Skyrim Civil War?

Something about it was just wrong? Nero was a powerful businessman, he would be smarter and use his riches to find more Legions to buy out, maybe at least get several Mercenary groups like Tullius did in Skyrim.

Next thing that was fishy was the fact that the High Elven councilors had disappeared. Councilor Albuttian said that Mearanil approached him in his house and gave him the declaration before vanishing. It was some thieves guild or dark brotherhood type of stuff.

How would this war play out? How would Cyrodiil recover from it? Through the past years, it's been constant Civil Wars; the Skyrim Civil War lasting three years, and this new one that he calls "The Imperial Civil War." He predicted that it may last longer, but it's the second Legion versus the rest of the Imperial Army.

In Skyrim it was a large group of angry Militia led by the King of Traitors (a nickname for Ulfric Stormcloak, as mentioned in the upcoming book 'The King of Traitors' by Legate Rikke; Arminius would have to read it sometime.) It was them vs. a trained, organized, and professional military under the leadership of two of this current decade's best strategists, General Arctrius Tullius, and Cairus Scipio.

But this one would be a trained, organized and professional military under the leadership of two of this current decade's best strategists vs. a trained, organized, and professional Legion led by a General Opiter Kaeso that Arminius knows little about.

Through the double doors came councilor Amaund Motierre, who looked displeased. Arminius stayed the way he was in his throne and watched as he approached.

"My Emperor," he said, bowing rather quickly. "I have troubling news."

"What is it, Motierre?" Arminius replied. The Breton straightened himself out, and stood firmly.

"The villages and small settlements down south have been reported to be in flames," Motierre said. "Citizens came to the gate of the Imperial city in a panic, explaining that cohorts of Legionnaires were burning them down and taking their resources."

Arminius grew wide eyed, and slowly straightened himself from his lazy form, leaning forward to get a closer look at Motierre.

"Are you lying?"

"I'm not, my Emperor," Arminius fell back in his throne, feeling utterly devastated. He shuttered at the thought, and whispered to himself.

"Why would Legionnaire's do this to their homeland?"

He began to ponder about it; his parents' farm. He knew that his parents were safe, for he arranged for them to be resting in a special place in the Imperial palace for the time being, along with his friends.

Let's mention that these were villages down in the south, exactly where the Great War affected Cyrodiil the most. The poor people had probably just rebuilt their homes, only for them to get destroyed again.

Why would Nero do this to us? So many questions in a single moment that are left unanswered. He had become enraged.

Arminius stomped out of his throne, stepping down and moving back and forth across the room, holding his head in his hands.

"Dammit!" He yelled. "By the Nine! Why must they do this?!" The Penitus Ocalatus agents who were standing still looking ahead, had turned their eyes momentarily to see him break down.

"The Nine, my Emperor?" Motierre questioned. Arminius stopped and looked up at him.

"Yes, the Nine," Arminius said. "Do you believe in the Nine?"

"I believe in the Eight, my Emperor," Motierre answered. Arminius breathed, laid a hand on the Breton's shoulder and nodded.

"I can respect that," he said, and then he brought his hand back and turned towards his throne.

"What would the Dominion think of that?"

"The Dominion doesn't have to know," Arminius said, putting himself down onto the large comfortable chair. "I doubt they really care about my religion; I'm sure they view me as the man who broke into their Embassy."

"You broke into their Embassy in your travels, my Emperor?" Motierre let out kind of shocked.

"It's a long story, and I'm not necessarily in a mood to tell it now," Arminius said. "But I can tell you that the exterior and interior is nice, but the location is rather annoying with it being colder than usual."

With the colder statement, Arminius thought about something.

At some point, he's heard speculations of what would happen if the Stormcloaks actually won the war. The Thalmor would come in and basically take over; of course the Stormcloaks would put up a fight, but they would probably be so weakened by the earlier fighting that it wouldn't necessarily match how ready the Dominion would be.

How did Arminius think of it? He once heard this one man try to justify the Stormcloaks being able to beat the Thalmor because of the weather in Skyrim. The cold would be too harsh for them to move on.

It was a stupid concept, honestly. Surely, it would probably work against Redguard, or maybe Dunmer at the most, but that idea was faulty when compared to the Empire. It seems the Imperials have no real life or death problems with being in it's cold, considering that their soldiers whose ancestors came from all corners of Tamriel to settle in Skyrim had lived there all their lives, along with their fathers and mothers before them.

Regarding Thalmor invasion armies, the bulk of their force consisted of Bosmer Archers, mixed races of Altmer, Bosmer, and Khajiit as Phalanx infantry and cavalry, and an emphasis on Altmer mages who were able to cast simple destruction spells like fire and more.

Casting fire would basically be able to keep the entirety of them warm, not to mention all the towns and cities that they would burn down could heat up the climate a little.

* * *

**My explanation of a Thalmor invasion working despite being in the cold is actually a response to someone saying that the Thalmor would be defeated because Skyrim is basically Russia. I find it bullshit because Mages know how to cast fire at the palm of their hands and heat things to their will while Napoleon's French troops when invading Russia had absolutely none of that while the Russians themselves were burning down their own land to starve them out. **

**Basically the only way that the Thalmor could possibly be beaten would be to use the scorched earth policy, and I don't really see the Stormcloaks ever dare doing that to what they defend. Besides, even if they did it doesn't mean that they can defeat the Thalmor, it only means they are desperate and can't actually take them, which they criticize the Imperials so much about; ultimately making them Hypocrites if that actually played out. **


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